


Winter's Pale

by gingeringfigs



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Aged-Up Hiro, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-10 19:09:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3300452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingeringfigs/pseuds/gingeringfigs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale.</i><br/>- Winter's Tale, Act IV, Scene III</p><p>A winter's day in a snowy garden, a voice saying a fond good-bye. Gold flickering sunlight over the white snow with long shadows. All of this was apparently a real memory. How's Hiro supposed to start looking for a long-lost brother he didn't even think was real until mere hours ago?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was a cold wintry day with snow piled thick on the ground. Hiro’s nose was numb and reddened from the cold. He clapped his gloved hands over his nose and mouth and huffed, warming up his exposed face. He skipped happily in the snow, feeling it crunch under his boots. He turned around and waved, “Nii-san! Hurry up!”

 

His brother had fallen back, his pace slowing down. He hung back, watching Hiro with a faint smile. He held out his hand to Hiro, “Slow down, Hiro. You’ll fall if you run too fast.”

 

Hiro grinned toothily at Tadashi as he grabbed Tadashi’s hand. His hand easily covered Hiro’s smaller hand in a warm grip. He said, “Maybe. But you’ll catch me if I fall, right?”

 

“Aa.” Tadashi agreed. His grip tightened on Hiro’s hand. Hiro smiled and leaned into Tadashi’s side for warmth as they strolled along the snowy path. The wintry light soon turned gold, filtering through the bare tree branches. Hiro’s legs grew tired and he couldn’t walk any further. He whined softly, tugging on Tadashi’s arm, “I’m tired...Can you please carry me?”

 

Tadashi laughed, kneeling down in the white snow. He opened his arms and Hiro eagerly stepped into the small circle, hugging Tadashi around his neck as his brother lifted him off the snowy ground. Tadashi teased, “Oof, what have you been eating? You weigh a ton!”

 

Hiro pouted, “I’m not that heavy!”

 

Tadashi only laughed as he merrily skipped in the snow, making Hiro squeal with glee as he bounced in Tadashi’s arms. Snowflakes started to fall like white cherry blossoms. Hiro looked up in wonder, “It’s snowing!”

 

“Yeah. It’s beautiful.” Tadashi said quietly as they finally drew to the end of the pathway. There was a black car waiting for them at the gates. Tadashi gently lowered Hiro to the ground. Hiro glanced around, wondering at the absence of the stern guards that usually stood at the gates. He turned to look at Tadashi and asked, “Where are we going?”

 

Tadashi didn’t say a word. His face was white and he was trembling like a leaf in the wind. He bit his lips before he finally grabbed Hiro and pulled him close into a tight hug. The hug was so tight that Hiro almost couldn’t breathe and he heard Tadashi’s choked whisper, “I love you, Hiro. I’ll always love you. I’ll always remember you, my little Hiro.” 

  
Tadashi kissed Hiro’s forehead. Then he stood up and pushed him away. He was crying, his tears shining in the golden dusk. He tearfully smiled at Hiro, “Goodbye. Please forget about me. Grow up well and safely.”

 

Hiro didn’t understand. Why was Tadashi so sad? Why was he saying goodbye? The chauffeur emerged from the car and he took Hiro’s shoulder. He said to Hiro, “It is time to go, Master. You will be late for your flight.”

 

Hiro stared up at the chauffeur, as slow realisation dawned on him. He was...being separated from Tadashi? He tried to pull out of the man’s hand and run back to Tadashi but the chauffeur’s grip was too strong. Hiro screamed and cried, “Tadashi!! No!! I don’t want to leave! Please don’t send me away! I’ll be _good_ , I promise! _Tadashi!!_ ”

 

Tadashi’s lonely figure stiffened; his brother had heard him. But he didn’t look back. Hiro sobbed, his tears freezing on his cheeks. Tadashi ordered, “Leave now. There’s not much time left.”

 

“Yes Master.” The chauffeur said. Before Hiro could realise what was happening, he felt a sharp hit on the back of his neck. His vision started to fade. The last thing he saw was Tadashi’s back walking away from him. He whispered, “ _Nii-san…why?_ ”

 

The snow continued to fall as the black car drove away, its backlights tracing red lines in the dark.

 

* * *

 

_10 years later…_

  
Hiro blearily woke up to the shrill ringing of his alarm. He grabbed his ringing phone and slid the bar right to shut off the alarm. His face was wet. He had that _dream_ again. How ridiculous. He didn’t have a older brother named Tadashi but that stupid dream still kept coming back to haunt him. He shivered – it was so _cold_ that his breath was misting in front of his face. Of course, it was winter after all.

 

Hiro combed his bedhead, in a futile attempt to get his hair into some semblance of order. Giving it up as a lost battle, he quickly took a shower and changed into a set of casual clothes. Aunt Cass’s voice called up from below, “Hiro! You’d better hurry up or you’re going to be late for your flight!”

 

“I know! Just give me a few minutes!” Hiro hollered as he stumbled around his messy room, searching for his suitcase. He finally found it, having slammed his toe against the hard plastic. He yelled, “HOLY FUCKING SHIT!! THAT REALLY HURTS!!”

 

Hopping around on one foot, Hiro stepped on a loose paper sheet. It slipped out from under him and he fell hard on his back with a loud thud.

 

“Hiro? Are you okay?” Aunt Cass called again. Hiro yelled back as he pushed himself up from the floor, “Yeah, just _peachy_!”

 

As Hiro rubbed his sore behind, he muttered, “Uughh. Why did the flight have to be an early morning one? To Japan. Fucking time-zones. Seriously, fuck this.”

 

Despite his grumbling and foul mood, Hiro was actually looking forward to the flight. He was being posted to Japan to head the R&D division of Krei Corps that was being started up in Tokyo. At the young age of 18 years old, Hiro had graduated from San Fransokyo Institute of Technology with top honours in Robotics, several doctorates in the various fields of Industrial Sciences and Applied Sciences and quite a few ground-breaking scientific theses to his name. His work with microbots had caught the eye of Krei Corps and he was immediately scooped up barely after graduation.

 

Apparently, Japan was a tough market to break into, considering how much more advanced its robotics were compared to other countries. Krei Corps had long desired to gain a foothold into the market and Alistair Krei believed that Hiro’s microbots were the best shot at breaking into this market. It also helped that Hiro was part Japanese and would have much less trouble working with locals.

 

In any case, Hiro was looking forward to experiencing a new country and culture! And perhaps, experience the intense bot-fighting scene of Tokyo’s streets. Heh. It had been quite a while since he last went bot-fighting - it wasn’t that much fun anymore these days with no worthy rival able to challenge his skills.

 

As Hiro finally heaved his suitcase down to the bottom of the stairs, Aunt Cas shoved a sandwich into his hand, “Eat this! You’re already scrawny enough as it is - horrible habit of yours, always skipping breakfast!”

 

Hiro munched his sandwich, “Thanks. You’re awesome.”

 

“I know. Come on, let’s get your suitcase in the car.” Aunt Cass shooed him out of the cafe, taking a few moments to turn the sign from “OPEN” to “CLOSED” and locked the front door. Holding the half-eaten sandwich in between his teeth, Hiro loaded his suitcase into the back of Aunt Cass’s blue Beetle. He then swung into the front seat and slammed the door shut. At the same time, Aunt Cass slid into the driver’s seat and shut the door. She looked at the dashboard clock and gasped, “We’re gonna have to rush! Hold on tight, dear!”

 

Hiro’s eyes widened, “Wait, no!” But too late, Aunt Cass floored it and Hiro almost choked on his sandwich.

 

* * *

 

Thanks to Aunt Cass’s speed-demon driving, Hiro made it to the San Fransokyo International Airport with time to spare. After checking in his luggage, Hiro offered, “Hey, do you want to get some coffee with me before I go in? You know, to thank you for the lift.”

 

Aunt Cass smiled, “Oh how lovely! Yes, that’ll be nice. You do have time for a coffee?”

 

“Yeah. The boarding gates aren’t opening for at least another two hours so I can spend about an hour with you before I have to go in. Come on, this is the last time I’m going to see you in person for many months!” Hiro cajoled, grinning at her. He patted his pocket, “Besides, I’ve got cash to spare.”

 

“Hoho if you insist!” Aunt Cass giggled, clapping her hands happily.

 

* * *

 

Both aunt and nephew sat at a table with cups of steaming coffee in front of them. Aunt Cass was laughing hard at one of Hiro’s anecdotes, “Oh stop it! My poor heart can’t take this!”

 

“It was pretty bad, yeah. If I hadn’t been there to handle the situation, Krei Corps would have needed to build a new laboratory,” Hiro propped his chin on his hand. Aunt Cass giggled again, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. She sobered up when she saw the time on her watch. It was almost time for Hiro to leave.

 

“Hiro...there’s something I should tell you before you leave for Japan…” Aunt Cass said quietly. Hiro raised his eyebrow, “Oooh...is it a new boyfriend?”

 

“Oh shush! Nothing of the sort, you silly boy!” Aunt Cass slapped his shoulder, “This is serious!”

 

“Alright, alright, I’m listening. No more joking.” Hiro chuckled as he rubbed his shoulder. His aunt bit her lip before she pulled out a wrinkled letter from her pocket. She said, “Hiro...remember the dream you used to have?”

 

“...what dream?” Hiro said. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach. Aunt Cass continued, “I heard you crying. You know what I’m talking about.”

 

“...Yes…?”

 

“Well. Thing is. You do actually have an older brother. His name is Tadashi. You were separated from him when you were very young...for your own safety apparently. A man brought you to me with this letter -” Aunt Cass hurriedly said as she pushed the letter over to Hiro “-it’s addressed to you from Tadashi. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier but I didn’t think you would ever get the chance to meet Tadashi again, but now...I think it’s time you met him.”

 

Tadashi was real? The vivid dream he had this morning...was actually a memory? Hiro was speechless. He took the letter and was about to open it before Aunt Cass firmly clasped her hand over Hiro’s hands, “Not now. You should read it when you’re alone. You’ll understand why when you read it.”

 

“...Okay.” Hiro folded the letter away into his pocket. Although it was just a piece of paper, it felt _heavy_. Aunt Cass gave him a smile.

 

“You should go now. Bon voyage.” She pulled him into a tight hug. Hiro returned the hug, “Yeah. Thanks for everything, Aunt Cass.”

 

“Take care of yourself, dear. Just know you always have a home to return to in San Fransokyo.” Aunt Cass said. Hiro nodded, “I will. Bye.”

 

With that, Hiro took his jacket and left the cafe. Aunt Cass watched him go, cupping her hand over her lips. When Hiro could no longer be seen among the milling crowd, she sighed and stood up to leave the cafe. She had to return to Lucky Cat Café for business.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been planning this for quite a long time but I kept dithering about whether to _actually_ write it, alongside Motorcycle Man. But oh what the hell. Might as well do it since I'm not getting any younger and I'm going to turn 25 in just AN HOUR. Enjoy.


	2. Chapter 2

Hiro mechanically went through the motions of boarding his plane, his mind still stuck on what Aunt Cass had said about him having an older brother. The letter felt like a burning brand in his pocket. He was loath to even reach into his pocket just to take it out.

 

He had a brother. Named Tadashi. Who was in Japan. If that was the truth…then…what happened? Hiro’s mind was for once, a complete blank. A rarity for Hiro Hamada the genius whose mind never stopped thinking and working through several ideas at once. After he stowed away his carry-on and taken out what he needed, he closed the door to his first class cabin and slumped into his luxurious seat/bed.

 

He checked his watch and adjusted the time 17 hours ahead to Tokyo time. Hiro was in for a long flight –10 hours and 48 minutes to be precise. Right now, it was nighttime in Tokyo. By the time he landed in Tokyo, it would be around mid-morning/early afternoon, just in time for a quick introductory meeting with the Japanese branch of Krei Corps’ chair board.

 

Hiro sighed and rubbed his face. He wasn’t looking forward to the meeting. Politicking and making small talk wasn’t his thing, especially when people looked down on him for his young age despite his intelligence. But Mr Krei's secretary had forced him into it, impressing on him the importance of introductions in Japanese culture. Honestly, who was the Japanese here? Hiro sighed again. She was right though. If Hiro was going to make a headstart in Tokyo, he needed to make new contacts.

 

Well then, for the next approximate eleven hours, Hiro was free to do whatever he liked on the plane. He idly reached for the remote control and turned the mini LCD screen on.

 

* * *

 

Three movies later and a late dinner, Hiro was feeling sleepy. In fact, he should have slept after one movie to minimise his jetlag but he wasn’t the kind to make rational wise decisions. He pressed the button to make his seat recline fully into horizontal position into a bed. Hiro took off his jacket and felt a crinkle of paper in his pocket.

 

Oh right. That letter…Maybe he should read it now. If not now, when?

 

Hiro took it out and opened it with bated breath. He read it…or at least tried to. It was all written in _kanji_ and he wasn’t that fluent in reading Japanese other than hiragana or katakana. _Shit._ How the hell was he going to understand what his supposed older brother had written?? Hiro snorted at himself, “Hah. All that anxiety for nothing when I can’t even read this. What the hell.”

 

But even so, Hiro still found the neat foreign handwriting nostalgically familiar. It was as though he knew it like his own handwriting…Okay, he wasn’t giving up here so easily. Taking out his mobile, he snapped a picture of the letter and promptly ran it through a conversion software to change the kanji into their katakana and hiragana equivalent. It wasn’t a perfect solution but it was better than nothing. It took him a while to slowly read through the letter, his rusty Japanese impeding his progress.

 

The letter read,

 

> _Hiro,_
> 
> _By the time you read this letter, you are probably already far away. That’s good. You are far safer where you are now than here. Our mother would have not wanted you to live in this family. Nor do I want you to grow up here with me. I have sent you to San Fransokyo to live with Aunt Cass, our father’s sister. She will look after you where I cannot. I’m sorry that I could not keep my promise to always be with you. You probably hate me now for doing this, for sending you away and breaking my promise. But…know that I love you always._
> 
> _Yours truly,_
> 
> _Tadashi Hamada_

  
Hiro folded the letter and tucked it carefully into his pocket. Huh. He didn’t know what to think. Squeezing the bridge of his nose as his exhaustion brought on a low throbbing headache, Hiro groaned. Time to sleep. He would have to think about the letter at another time. For all he knew, Tadashi was probably already dead (if he felt a twinge of pain at the thought, he ignored it.)

 

* * *

The burgundy silk cushion was hard and uncomfortable beneath him as he sat on it. The dark wooden floor was so well polished that he could almost see his blurred reflection in them when he looked down. He idly fidgeted with the hem of his shorts as he waited for their dinner to arrive. He was sooo _hungry_.  
  
Beside him, Tadashi also sat on his own cushion. Instead of facing his empty tray, he was facing the end of the large empty room. His back was straight and his voice was steady, “Sir. You can’t do this to Hiro. He’s too young.”

 

“Too _young_?”

 

Hiro snuck a peek over Tadashi’s shoulder at the speaker. It was an old man dressed in a kimono, hakama and a haori with the Clan’s mon of three interlocking triangles that formed into a larger fourth triangle. He didn’t look pleased. Hiro quickly looked away, frightened of the fierce old man.

 

Tadashi, however, didn’t seem frightened. But Hiro saw that his clenched fists were trembling in his lap. He replied, “Hiro is not even _ten_ years old. While he may be very clever for his age, he’s only a child. You’ll hurt him if you try to force him into what he doesn’t want to do.”

 

“Hmph. Hiro will have to learn his place sooner or later. Preferably sooner because he’s _smart_ like you said. Best to drill that lesson into his head now before he becomes too difficult to control.” The old man was implacable as he poured a cup of sake.

 

Tadashi clenched his fists tighter. Hiro nearly whimpered, as the tension grew so thick in the room that he couldn’t breathe. His brother hissed, “Hiro’s not a pawn. He’s your _grandson_.”

 

“A grandson, but not my _heir_. Hiro is merely a spare.” Their grandfather’s words were callous and Hiro shivered, feeling small and weak. Tadashi was silent for a long moment before he finally spoke, “Hiro is my only brother. If you swear not to hurt him or attempt to draw him into the Clan, I will not run away like our mother did.”

 

“Feh. You speak pretty words like your mother but they hold no water. Hiro will be sent for training.”

 

“Sir. Do you think I would break my word?” Tadashi quietly asked.

 

“…Hm. I like the look in your eyes, boy. You’re that determined to protect Hiro?” The old man seemed pleased and a dark malevolence tinged his next words, “How far are you willing to go for Hiro?”

 

Tadashi didn’t hesitate, “I will _kill_ you if I have to. You taught me well.”

 

The man laughed, “Such insolence! I could destroy you where you stand like an ant beneath my foot but I like your nerves of steel. Very well, Hiro is excused.”

 

“Thank you, sir.”

 

Like smoke, the tension dissipated when the servants came in with their dinner. Hiro didn’t feel like eating anymore even though the food looked really good. Tadashi nudged him gently, “Eat, Hiro. You’ll be hungry later if you don’t eat.”

 

“ _Hai_.”

 

As Hiro slowly ate his meal, he glanced at Tadashi’s hands. His palms were bleeding slightly from the crescent indents his fingernails had made.

 

* * *

 

“Sir, please raise your seat. We are touching down at Narita International Airport in an hour.”

 

Hiro woke up to a stewardess gently shaking his shoulder. She gave him a glass of warm water. As Hiro drank the water, the stewardess asked, “Would you like something to eat?”

 

Hiro didn’t feel hungry. He pressed a hand to his head, “No, I’m fine. Thank you. Excuse me, I need to use the loo.”

 

“Of course, sir.” The stewardess gracefully left the cabin and Hiro followed her out, feeling off-balance.

 

In the cramped toilet, Hiro splashed his face with cold water and gargled the mouth rinse to clear his morning breath. The dream had been different this time. If it was a real memory, where had it taken place? What exactly had gone down? Why had Tadashi spoken of…killing as though it was a normal activity like drinking coffee? Holy shit. This was way too early for this nonsense.

 

Hiro rested his forehead against the mirror. Just the day before, he had only been thinking of the trip to Japan as an exciting journey to his so-called homeland to explore his roots. But now, it seemed like a terribly uninviting no-man’s land with a multitude of dark secrets. And he had a missing elder brother who may or may not be an assassin.

 

“Damn it, Aunt Cass. Why did you have to go and upend my life at the last minute??” Hiro grumbled as he thumped his fist on the wall. Damn it. His curiosity was now roused. He had to find Tadashi while he was in Japan. And desperately hope that this stupid mission wasn’t going to get him killed in the process. Unlike the cat, he didn’t have eight lives to spare.

 

* * *

Eventually, Hiro was finally on solid ground. Thanks to his special visa from Krei Corps, he whisked through the Immigration Customs and speedily collected his suitcase.

 

Emerging into the Arrival Hall, he scanned the crowd of teeming people with signboards. When he spotted Krei Corps’ familiar logo, he walked over to the person holding up the signboard with the logo on it. Hiro greeted him in fluent Japanese, “Good morning. I’m Hamada Hiro. Are you my guide?”

 

“Yes sir. Come this way.” His guide was obviously a local with his black hair and Asian features. For once, Hiro was actually taller than someone else, haha! Hiro asked, “What’s your name?”

 

“I’m Satou Hajime. Nice to meet you, sir.” Satou didn’t seem inclined to make much conversation and Hiro left it at that. He didn’t really feel like talking much either. Satou led them to a black limousine; the car making Hiro pause as nostalgia hit him.

 

“Sir?”

 

“Oh right, sorry. I’m still kind of tired from my flight.” Hiro apologised as he handed over his suitcase to Satou. He put it into the car’s boot without a word. Hiro got into the limo. Although the limo was very spacious inside, it felt claustrophobic to Hiro and he tensed. In fact, it made him very uneasy.

 

“Hey Satou, is it a long way to the hotel?”

 

“No sir, it is very fast. Only about thirty minutes.” Satou replied as he adjusted the mirror. Hiro took a deep breath. Okay. Thirty minutes wasn’t too bad…


	3. Chapter 3

True to Satou’s words, they arrived at Park Hyatt Tokyo Hotel in the Shinjuku district. Hiro looked out at his new surroundings in wonder – it really didn’t feel all that different from San Fransokyo, albeit with the conspicuous absence of any English texts. Incomprehensible Japanese pop-culture abounded on the billboards and paraphernalia on the streets. There were even people cosplaying openly (or perhaps it was just down-right bizarre Japanese street fashion.) Hiro couldn’t wait to start exploring, but that would have to wait. He was absolutely dead-beat.

 

Satou helped him unload the suitcase and he led the way to the hotel reception. He even went to the extent of handling the check-in for him. When Satou returned, he passed the key-card to Hiro and said, “You’re in the Park Suite. Complimentary Wifi and Mobile are included. If you require a mobile outside the hotel, please let one of the concierges know. They will provide you with one.”

 

“Cool. I’ll keep that in mind.” Hiro smiled. He was quite impressed by the quality of customer service Satou was giving and was tempted to tip him. But he refrained, remembering from the many lectures he had been forced through that tipping wasn’t a custom in Japan.

 

Satou bowed, “It was a pleasure, sir. I shall pick you up tomorrow morning to escort you to the board meeting.”

 

“Wait, I thought it was today?” While Hiro was pleased that he had the day off to rest, he was puzzled. It was not common for important board meetings to be rearranged at such short notice. Satou looked apologetic. He replied, “I do not know. I was only informed that you are to be escorted to the Tokyo HQ tomorrow morning at 10am.”

 

“Ah right, right. I’ll check with them later. Thanks for letting me know, Satou.” Hiro waved his hand. It wasn’t Satou’s fault that his schedule had been rearranged. Satou bowed again before he exited the hotel lobby.

 

Flipping the hotel key-card over his fingers, Hiro proceeded to the lifts. He desperately needed a bath and a nap.

 

* * *

 

Rejuvenated from his shower, Hiro was about to fall asleep when he received a call on his room phone. Wondering who was calling him, Hiro picked up the phone, “Yes, Hamada Hiro speaking.”

 

“Ah, Hiro. I trust your flight was a good one?” A familiar voice spoke. Hiro sighed. Oh for…

 

“Mr Krei. Yes, my flight went smoothly. May I ask why I was not informed that my meeting was rescheduled with the chair board? While I appreciate the extra rest, it’s rather out of the norm for Krei Corps to not inform me of important details like this,” Hiro snippily said, annoyance at his nap being interrupted seeping through. 

  
Mr Krei laughed and glossed over his question, “Ah, my boy, I’m really excited that you’re helping Krei Corps get a start in Tokyo! I’m sure you’ll do marvellously. Are you prepared for your first day in Tokyo?”

 

“Mr Krei. I’m calling off now. I’m tired as fuck and if you want the meeting to go well, stop pestering me. Bye.” Hiro brusquely slammed the phone down and rolled over. A few blessedly quiet minutes passed before the phone rang again and Hiro yanked it off the hook. He threatened, “I’m setting your office on _fire_ when I get back, Krei!”

 

“…Hiro. This is Abigail.” A feminine voice spoke, cutting through his annoyance.

 

“Oh. Hello. What is it, Abby?” Hiro refrained from groaning. Abigail Callaghan was his senior at Krei Corps. While she was sweet and kind most of the time, she was also scarily strict and smart like her father, the famous Dr Robert Callaghan. It was not too surprising that she quickly rose to be the head of the R&D division in Krei Corps’ San Fransokyo branch.

 

Abigail said, “I just want to remind you that you have a very important job to do in Tokyo. You’re now holding the same position like me and I believe that you can do it. As your mentor in SFIT and Krei Corps, I wish you all the best.”

 

Hiro smiled, “Aw, thanks. No worries, Abby. I can handle it here – they won’t know what hit them tomorrow.”

 

“I’m sure. I hope you’re not going to do anything grandiose like turbo engines, automated water-hoses and so on.”

 

“Haha. Nothing of the sort! I might be a genius, but I’m jetlagged and am in no shape for any tinkering tonight. Besides, I don’t have my equipment with me right now.”

 

“True. Very well, I’ll leave you to catch up on your sleep. Have a good rest.”

 

“Bye.”

 

The phone finally went silent and Hiro placed it back on the hook before he fell fast asleep.

 

* * *

 

It was already dark when Hiro woke up. His stomach growled and he checked the time. No wonder he was feeling famished. It was already 8pm. He had missed lunch! Time for dinner. Hiro washed his face to wake himself up. Hmm, now to come think of it, why not go exploring for a bit and see if he could find a bot-fighting ring? If he couldn’t find one, there was always the famous night-clubbing scene in Roppongi, not too far from Shinjuku.

 

His conscience spoke, _Not a good idea. You’ve got to stay sober for tomorrow’s meeting or you’re gonna have a hard time. Besides, this is Tokyo. Not San Fransokyo. You might get hurt if you’re not careful._

Hiro ignored his conscience. He was always careful anyway. Besides, he wasn’t exactly looking to get _drunk_ per se _…_ Hm. Alright, he’d have to do bot-fighting another time. He would go clubbing after dinner and see if he could get a little extra _fun_ tonight.

 

His plans decided for the night, Hiro quickly changed into his clubbing clothes, a pair of black drainpipe jeans, a fitted shirt and sneakers. He pulled on a thick coat to ward off the wintry chill. Taking his wallet and mobile with him, Hiro left his suite.

 

It was freezing cold outside the hotel and Hiro was almost tempted to dash back inside and huddle under his blankets for warmth, but he was far too hungry. He was also buzzing with too much energy to be able to sleep tonight (thanks to his little snooze earlier). Taking the concierge’s advice, Hiro walked off to the nearest train station to take a train to Roppongi.

 

* * *

 

 

It didn’t take him long to find a ramen bar in Roppongi. The bowl of shoyu chicken ramen was tasty, filling and cheap. Hiro had to grudgingly say that it was one of the best ramen he had outside of San Fransokyo – of course. This was Tokyo. Any Japanese food found here was bound to be good, or at least better than some of the stuff back home.

 

Hiro slapped enough money on the counter to pay for the meal, “Keep the change. It was delicious.”

 

His hands were cold and he shoved them into his pockets, wishing that he had remembered to wear gloves before he left the hotel. Neon lights and risqué signboards informed Hiro that he was moving in the right direction.

 

When he moved closer, he saw that the nightclub he had been intending to go to, had a really long queue. Ugh. He didn’t feel like freezing his balls off in the cold, so it was a no go. Shaking his head, Hiro moved on further down the neon-lit street for another less crowded nightclub.

 

It took him a while to find one after many crowded nightclubs and being harassed by hostesses. Shivering under his coat, Hiro gratefully stepped into the warm and dimly lit interior of “The Emperor”. He paused. It wasn’t quite the rave nightclub he had been expecting. In fact, it was rather quiet and the people in here were rather well dressed as if they were at a cocktail party. Oops. This wasn’t a nightclub. This was a bar.

 

Hiro groaned. He didn’t fancy going back out into the cold again just to look for a nightclub that wasn’t too full (and getting harrassed all over again by pushy hosts and hostesses). What a fun night it was turning out to be. Hiro ignored the mild embarrassment of being underdressed as he shrugged off his coat. This was nothing like having to show up in your pyjamas for your graduation ceremony because you’d overslept and didn’t have time to change.

 

The other guests gave him curious looks as he weaved through the tables to the bar. He sat down on one of the high chairs and ordered himself a cocktail. Sipping it slowly, he glanced around, spotting a jazz trio playing on the stage. Hmm. This bar wasn’t his usual scene, but it wasn’t too bad either. In fact, Abigail would probably enjoy the atmosphere here.

 

A waiter approached him, “Sir, your clothes don’t fit the dress-code.”

 

Hiro glanced up at him, “So? I’ve already paid for my drink and it’s freezing cold out there. I’m not budging until I’ve finished this drink.”

 

“Sir –“ the waiter was taken aback by his blunt reply. Hiro waved his hand at him, “Shoo. You’ve made your point. I’ll leave when I’ve finished, okay? Please go away.”

 

The waiter looked quite at a loss, clearly not used to dealing with brazen customers. Hiro turned back to his cocktail.

 

“You may go now. I’ll handle this.” A new voice spoke from behind Hiro. The waiter quickly nodded before he left. Hiro pulled a face. Ugh. Not another one?! He turned around to face the speaker and promptly forgot what he was going to say.

 

Holy Jesus, Mary and Joseph. This guy was smoking _hot_. He was the most handsome guy Hiro had ever seen in his entire life, dressed in a designer suit that fit him like a glove. Even if Mr Krei wore designer suits like this guy, he could never hope to look this _devastatingly sexy_. He was suddenly quite warm as the tall dark stranger slipped into the empty seat beside him.

 

“Sorry about that. That guy’s new and a bit of a stickler for the rules.” The stranger said kindly as he gave him a crooked smile. He looked him up and down, “You must have been freezing.”

 

“Yeah. I’m really sorry for not dressing appropriately but honestly, I wasn’t intending to come inside here…” Hiro trailed off awkwardly. Way to go, Hiro, this guy was most likely the owner of this establishment and now you’ve probably offended him. Foot, enter mouth.

 

The stranger laughed and Hiro wanted to douse himself in his cocktail to cool his raging hormones. _Shit_. Even this guy’s laugh was _sexy_. It was only the fact that it would be a waste of good alcohol and his money, as well as make him look crazy in front of the stranger, that Hiro refrained. The stranger’s smile took on a teasing edge, “Did you get lost then? Maybe I can give you a ride back.”

 

Hiro’s cheeks were aflame as he chugged down his cocktail, his mind unable to stop twisting the stranger’s offer into a dirty innuendo. He blurted out before he could rethink his answer, “Oh I don’t know, you _could_ if you wanted.”

 

“…Pardon?” The stranger raised an eyebrow. Hiro wanted to die from sheer embarrassment but he bolstered his nerve with another swig of his cocktail. He shot the stranger a seductive grin, “Well, it’s quite a cold night and it’s my first time here in Tokyo…Would you like to show me around?”

 

The stranger gave him a long considering look. He finally asked, “You’re not a local?”

 

“Yeah. I’m American-Japanese actually.” Hiro insouciantly shrugged. Feeling bold, he winked at him, “By the way, what’s your name, handsome?”

 

The stranger snorted, his lips lifting into another crooked smile. Finally getting a clue, he leaned in and whispered in Hiro’s ear, “I’m Jimmu. What’s yours?”

 

Feeling a slow heat spread through him, Hiro purred, “Todd. It’s a _pleasure_.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jimmu is actually a reference to this [guy](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emperor_Jimmu). What a grandiose name!
> 
> As for "Todd", it originally derived from Middle Age English "Todde", which means Fox. So yeah. But even so, they're still hilariously bad to the ears and obviously fake. But no one really cares.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this chapter was fun!

His alarm woke Hiro up from a pleasant slumber. He yawned and stretched luxuriously in his bed, relishing the soreness that came from a wild night of good, hard fucking. It had been a while since Hiro was so well fucked to his complete satisfaction. He was slightly regretful that he most likely wouldn’t see Jimmu or whatever his actual name was again – their sexual compatibility had been off the charts.

 

As Hiro rolled out of bed, he noticed a note on the bedstand. It was from Jimmu and he’d written it in English.

 

> _I apologise for leaving you without saying goodbye as I have important business to attend to this morning. However, if you wish to meet again, you need only come to “The Emperor” on Friday nights and ask for Jimmu. I look forward to seeing you again._
> 
> _  
> At your service,  
>  Jimmu_

What a polite charmer. He certainly wrote pretty, eloquent words for such a dirty talker that almost made him come just from his words alone the night prior. Hiro nearly flushed at the vivid memory of Jimmu’s husky bedroom voice growling in his ear as he fucked him into his bed – it was almost if he hadn’t left at all. Hiro snickered as he tucked the note away. Oh for sure, he was definitely calling on Jimmu whenever he needed to scratch an itch.

 

Hiro was in such a good mood that when Satou finally arrived to pick him up, he commented, “You must have slept well last night, sir.”

 

“Oh yes, I did. It was a very _good_ night.” Hiro grinned. Even if his ass was still aching from his activities the night prior and made it difficult to sit comfortably, it had been worth it.

 

Satou politely didn’t question him further. He only asked, “Have you eaten breakfast? I can bring you to a place for breakfast if you wish to eat.”

 

“Oh boy! Do we have enough time to swing by for a quick bite?” Hiro excitedly leaned forward from the back seat. He was starting to feel hungry again. Satou nodded, “Yes, if you order take-away and eat in the car, we can get there in time.”

 

Satou’s suggestion cinched the deal. Hiro thumped Satou’s seat, “Go for it, dude. I’m _starving.”_

 

“Yes sir.”

 

* * *

 

Satou was a godsend. He had taken him to a popular French patisserie that made excellent caramel pudding that was so silky smooth and mellow that it practically melted on his tongue. Hiro was enraptured with the harmonious flavours of the smoky coffee caramel syrup that mixed with the egg pudding. Already on his third pudding (darn, the Japanese sure made their portions small!), Hiro told Satou, “You should drive me here every morning for breakfast! This is really good!”

 

Satou nodded, “ _Hai_. My daughters like this place very much. I am glad you enjoy it too.”

 

“Ooh, you have daughters? How old are they?” Hiro asked, curious to learn more about his chauffeur. Satou proudly smiled as he showed him a small photo of two girls in school uniform. One looked to be of high school age while the other was still in elementary school.

 

“The elder Ameya is 16 while the younger Asagiri is going to turn 10 soon.” Satou said fondly as he looked at his daughters in the photo. Hiro smiled, “Your daughters are cute!”

 

“Sir, you’re not very old, are you?” Satou curiously asked. Hiro’s smile froze. Oh no, this wasn’t going in the direction he thought it was…? Luckily, Satou’s perceptiveness and innate Japanese politeness prevented the conversation from going downhill, “Ah, I apologise for my rudeness. I only thought to ask if you would be interested to meet Ameya as she is very anxious about her studies. She hopes to study medicine at Tokyo University and I heard that you are very smart.”

 

“I’m not a medical doctor though…” Hiro said. Satou nodded, “It is alright, sir. It was presumptuous of me.”

 

Hiro sank back into the seat, wincing a little as his ass twinged at the change of position. Hot damn, Jimmu hadn’t been gentle at all. Lacing his hands together in his lap, he asked, “…How much longer will it take to get to the office?”

 

“The traffic is good so we should be able to reach Krei Corps on time, sir.”

 

“Good to know. I’d hate to be late for this important meeting.”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

* * *

 

Like Satou said, the drive to the Krei Corps’ Tokyo HQ was swift. The valet opened the door for him and he stepped out, feeling like a rock star as staff welcomed him and passed him a glass of warm water, “Welcome to Krei Corps, Mr Hamada.”

 

Passing his coat to another staff, Hiro adjusted his blue blazer and tugged at his black tie; he couldn’t wait to get out of this confining business suit (in actuality, a very expensive custom-tailored designer suit that Mr Krei’s secretary forced onto him when she discovered that Hiro didn’t possess a suit.) He smirked, “Yeah, let’s get this introduction over and done with. I’ve got an agenda to complete in 5 years and I’m aiming to finish it in 3.”

 

“Yes sir. Please follow me.”  
  
Once they were in the lifts, Hiro admired the panoramic view of Tokyo as they rapidly ascended. He could see Mount Fuji’s famous snowy peak in the distance, “Wow, this is amazing!”

 

His guide was silent as he strode down the long hallway that had Ukiyo-e prints and impressionist paintings hanging on the wall. Some of them were instantly recognisable, like Van Gogh’s famous Sunflowers while others had Hiro scratching his head. They finally stopped at the end of the hallway in front of two heavy doors. His guide slid a card through the door lock and scanned his thumbprint.

 

The doors smoothly swung open and Hiro stepped inside the room. Keeping a composed face, he scanned the new unfamiliar faces that would be his colleagues and subordinates for the next three to five years. Crud, they were definitely all older than 40, with grey hairs already showing at their temples. No wonder Mr Krei was having such a hard time getting into the Japanese market if all the senior employees in this Tokyo Branch were of the same notoriously conservative mindset. Not to even mention the shitfest when they discovered fraudulent accounting from Tokyo Branch just a month ago. Hiro had a huge task in front of him.

 

Alright, might as well start now.

 

“Good morning, gentlemen. I am Hamada Hiro, your new head of the R&D division here in Tokyo Krei Corps. I look forward to working with you.” He politely said as he bowed, the angle carefully calculated to show just enough respect for a colleague but not so low that he looked like he was being a subordinate to his older colleagues.

 

Hiro sat in the empty seat at the head of the table. He was here to make his point clear to the Chair Board that they could not treat him like a young teenager and he had a job to do. He crossed his hands on the table in front of him and announced, “While I’m the new head of the R&D division, I was also assigned to be your new CEO since your previous CEO was found to be negligent in his duties. San Fransokyo HQ was very displeased to learn that Tokyo HQ has been in the _red_ for the past four financial quarters. What the hell have you been _doing_?”

 

The Chair Board had no answer to offer. They looked at each other nervously, not expecting the new turn of events. Hiro narrowed his eyes at their response. There was something fishy going on.

 

“Where’s the previous CEO anyway? He’s got to answer for this.”

 

The doors slammed open. Startled, Hiro looked up to see thug-like people filing in. The Committee Board members paled and one looked to be on the verge of fainting. Hiro growled, “What the hell is going on now?? We’re having an important executive meeting!”

 

One of the board members beside him whispered fearfully, “It’s a _sōkaiya_! The previous CEO was threatened by the Yakuza and he fled. That’s why he’s not here.”

 

“Soka- what? Oh great. So I now get the fall huh? How _nice_.” Hiro sarcastically said as he glared at the apparent Yakuza that now lined the walls. God, he wasn’t being paid enough for this. He just wanted to stick to inventing things in his laboratory, not this stupid bullshit.

 

“Did you really think you could get away so easily?” A familiar voice spoke from the front of the room. The burly bouncers at the door had parted way for their leader and Hiro was absolutely speechless when he finally saw his face. He stood up and pointed at him, “ _Jimmu_??”

 

Jimmu paused, mild surprise showing on his face. His gaze swept around the room, his intense eyes cold and calculating before they finally settled on Hiro. He smiled, “What a pleasant coincidence to see you again. If I had known you were working for Krei Corps, I would have offered you a ride this morning.”

 

“What the _hell_. I don’t know who you are, Jimmu, but you have no right to be here. I’m in the middle of a very important meeting!” Hiro was absolutely pissed. Even if Jimmu was an excellent lay, he was completely messing up his plans. Hiro didn’t care if he was Yakuza or not, he just wanted him OUT NOW.

 

“I see. You must be the new CEO. I’m very sorry about interrupting your meeting but your predecessor owes the Hojo Clan at least a few million and he’s very _late_ in his repayments. Not to mention, I own almost half of the company shares in Tokyo Krei Corps. That entitles me to be present at this Committee Board meeting, don’t you think?”

 

Jimmu’s argument was logical and concise as he smiled at Hiro. Hiro crossed his arms, “You _might_ own half of Tokyo Krei Corps’ shares and have your grievances against my predecessor, but I’ve got a job to do, and that’s to fix this stupid mess. Your presence is an _hindrance_ , Jimmu!”

 

Out the corner of his eye, Hiro saw the thugs putting their hands into their jackets. He tensed. Jimmu put out his hand, “Stop.”

 

When his men had settled back into relaxed positions, Jimmu stepped up to the table in front of Hiro. His eyes were intrigued and he leaned in close to growl, “So how do you propose to settle the debt to the Hojo Clan then?”

 

Unbidden, Hiro couldn’t help but be reminded of their tryst the previous night. God damn it, this was not the time for such shenanigans. Hiro bared his teeth and retorted, “Why don’t you leave first and I’ll get back to you after this meeting’s over to discuss the outstanding payments? You do know where to find me after all.”

 

Jimmu laughed, running his hand through his hair, “Yes, I definitely do. What’s your real name, _Todd_?”

 

Hiro gritted his teeth and debated whether to tell him to fuck off or not. But in the end, it didn’t really matter, as it was very likely that he was going to be seeing a lot of Jimmu in the following months to come, unwillingly or not. He spat, “I’m Hamada Hiro. What’s your real name then?”

 

“… _Hamada_? _Hiro Hamada_?”

 

Jimmu’s reaction was completely unexpected. His eyes suddenly grew wide and he was in his face, yanking him close by the lapels with one hand as he stared at him, as though he was looking for a prized secret Hiro held. Hiro felt open and bare under his intense scrutinising gaze.

 

After a few long seconds, Jimmu finally let him go, his eyes shuttered. Jimmu muttered under his breath as if in a trance, “I felt for the tormented whirlwinds, damned for their carnal sins, committed when they let their passions rule their reason…” 

 

Jimmu shook his head. He gave Hiro a long unreadable look before he walked out of the conference room without a word. The Yakuza filed out after him in an orderly manner. When the last of them had left and closed the doors, the Chair Board members heaved a huge sigh of relief, “Oh thank goodness…!”

 

But Hiro felt no relief, only immense confusion and curiosity. Why had Jimmu quoted Dante’s Inferno and reacted in such a way when he heard his name?

 

…Wait. Damn it, he hadn’t gotten Jimmu’s real name!! _Aaarrghh_!! 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Glossary**  
> [Sōkaiya](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/S%C5%8Dkaiya) \- form of specialized racketeer unique to Japan, and usually associated with Yakuza.


	5. Chapter 5

The chair board meeting was a complete bust after Jimmu left. The members were in no state to continue and Hiro had to adjourn the meeting, rescheduling a makeup session in the following month much to his disgust. In the meantime, Hiro was going to have to reshuffle the chair board and reappoint new heads. On top of that, he needed to dig into the accounts to find out where and why the money had disappeared (obviously to the bedamned Hojo Clan if Jimmu had been telling the truth, but a few million was only a fraction of the _billions_ of yen missing).

 

Hiro growled and pushed up his bangs as he scanned through the figures, why the hell didn’t Krei just hire professional investigators to look into it?? Oh right, he didn’t want this to get out into the media, so he just shoved this mess onto Hiro the genius. God. Hiro wondered for the umpteenth time why he had decided to work for Krei Corps when he could have struck out on his own and just do what he liked. He missed the freedom of tinkering with his inventions when he was still under Abigail’s jurisdiction.

 

Groaning when he couldn’t find any clue in the maths, Hiro threw the dossier to the side. It was an utter mess. When he checked the time, he saw that it was way past office hours. Hiro rubbed his eyes, feeling absolutely exhausted. Right, time to call it a day. Deciding that it was impolite to drag Satou from wherever he was just so he could get back to his hotel suite, Hiro picked up his coat from the hanger. Taking the cab would do.

 

By the time his head finally hit the pillows after a late dinner and shower, he was already out like a light.

 

* * *

 

“Hiro, are you ok?”

 

Hiro huddled deeper into his blankets. He didn’t want to get out of bed. It would mean having to go for classes and he was _scared._ The teachers were truculent and cruel, having little patience for his questions. They kept pushing him past his limits, forcing him to sit still in long lectures that would have put him to sleep if not for the ever-present threat of a hard caning. His head ached from having so much knowledge crammed into it and he was constantly exhausted.

 

Hiro’s knuckles were black and blue from yesterday’s punishment. His hands ached so badly everytime he moved his fingers that he had to blink back tears. Crying would have worsened his punishment in this draconian household. It was a wonder that his tender, swollen flesh hadn’t split and bled yet.

 

A weight settled in the bed beside him. He felt a warm hand touch his back and Tadashi asked again, “What happened, Hiro?”

 

Hiro sniffled. He didn’t want Tadashi to see his hands - they were a sign of his failure to meet the Clan’s standards. He was afraid of disappointing his brother. Tadashi was silent. He gently tugged at the blankets, trying to coax Hiro to emerge from them. Hiro pulled away from him, mumbling, “Go away.”

 

Tadashi stopped. He leaned back and shrewdly guessed, “They punished you, didn’t they?”

 

Hiro didn’t reply. Tadashi sighed and stood up from the bed, “Stay where you are.”

 

Hiro wanted to tell Tadashi to stay but his voice refused to come out, a lump in his throat choking him. Helpless, he laid under the blankets, biting his lips in attempts not to cry. Maybe he should sleep...Tadashi’s footsteps came running back in and the bed shook slightly as his brother sat on the edge.

 

“I came back as quickly as I could. Come on, Hiro, get up so I can take a look at your hands and treat them, alright?” Tadashi said warmly. This time, Hiro didn’t resist. He slowly pushed himself up. Hiro didn’t dare to look at Tadashi as he timidly held out his hands. Tadashi hissed when he saw the extent of the injuries.

 

“This is _bad_. How could they-” Tadashi bit off the rest of his words, knowing that it wasn’t the time for vehement ranting at the people who had hurt Hiro. Hiro needed his care right now. He cupped Hiro’s chin with a hand, tilting his face up to look at him, “Look at me. This isn’t your fault, okay? I’ll take care of you.”

 

Hiro gasped when medical salve touched his skin. It felt like ice, but the sensation soon melted into a tingling sensation and a minty herbal smell filled the air. Tadashi was careful and thorough as he applied the white cream to Hiro’s small hands. After he finished covering Hiro’s bruises with the cream, he took the linen bandages and wrapped them firmly around Hiro’s hands, making sure to check that he wasn’t hurting him in the process.

 

When Tadashi was finished, Hiro’s hands did not hurt as much as before and he was able to flex his fingers slightly without wanting to cry. Tadashi surprised him when he raised his bandaged hands and gently kissed his knuckles, “There. Do you feel better now?”

 

Hiro giggled at the ticklish sensation, “Hmmhmm, much better now! They don’t hurt.”

 

Tadashi smiled and ruffled his hair. Then he flicked his forehead and rebuked him, “Next time, don’t hide your injuries from me! They could have gotten infected.”

 

Hiro’s lips wobbled. Unable to contain himself further, he dove into Tadashi’s lap and hugged him tightly. Words came out in a torrent, “I _hate_ it here. I’m so scared of failing my classes and they keep taking me away from you! They keep saying that I’m not good enough, that I’m not worthy of the Clan, of being your brother...Tadashi, I’m not stupid, am I?”

 

Tadashi’s expression darkened. He tucked Hiro’s head under his chin and cradled him close, “No, you’re _not_. You’re absolutely wonderful, so incredibly gifted and so clever. If anything, it’s the _Clan_ that’s not worthy.”

 

Tadashi’s voice trailed off into hushed silence as though he was afraid that someone might hear him. Hiro didn’t blame him. It was forbidden to speak out against the Clan in this place and there were many ears and eyes everywhere that observed their every move. Tadashi took a deep, shaky breath. He finally asked, “Do you want to hear a lullaby?”

 

“ _Hai_.” Hiro eagerly said. He loved hearing Tadashi sing. His brother smiled and hummed softly. His melodious voice softly sang,

 

> _“Sakura sakura_
> 
> _Noyama mo sato mo_
> 
> _Mi-watasu kagiri_
> 
> _Kasumi ka kumo ka_
> 
> _Asahi ni niou_
> 
> _Sakura sakura_
> 
> _Hana zakari_ _…”_

 

As the lullaby washed over Hiro’s ears together with Tadashi's heartbeat, his eyes slowly closed of their own accord. Warm and safe in Tadashi’s arms, he easily fell fast asleep.

 

* * *

 

About two weeks later, Hiro received a letter addressed to him. There was no sender's name written on it. Wondering who it was from, he asked the courier, “Has this already been checked over for any signs of unauthorised chemicals, poisons or biological agents?”

 

“Yes sir, it passed all the tests.” The courier said. Hiro nodded, and dismissed him, “Thanks. You may go now.”

 

Leaning back in his seat, he took out a letter opener and slit the envelope open. He took out the folded letter inside and smoothed it out. Hiro narrowed his eyes the moment he saw the handwriting - it was Jimmu’s. He still recognised that neat handwriting. That son of a bitch. What did he want now?

 

The letter was written in English just like the first letter (for some reason, Hiro kept forgetting to throw it out…) It read,

 

> _Dear Mr Hamada,_
> 
>   _I hereby declare Krei Corps’ debt owed to the Hojo Clan to be fulfilled. My men successfully located your predecessor and the Hojo Clan has reclaimed its price. In this letter, I send to you the details of several bank accounts in which your predecessor hid the money he embezzled from Krei Corps over the past few years. If you find a discrepancy in the figures, rest assured that he did not stash more cash elsewhere - we have been quite thorough in our investigations. If you still require an explanation; the Hojo Clan merely repatriated a sum as owed interest in the light of your predecessor’s late repayments. The difference should tally. I hope you have a pleasant day and that Krei Corps will continue to maintain good relations with the Hojo Clan. I await your reply._
> 
> _Sincerest Regards,_
> 
> _90th Hojo Clan Head,_
> 
> _Hojo Jimmu_

 

“THAT FUCKING ASSHOLE!!” Hiro roared after quickly scanning through the attached documents and doing the maths in his head. Fucking Hojo had stolen more than 700 billion yen from Krei Corps! It wasn't mitigated by the fact that they weren't the first to steal the cash, or that his predecessor owed them the cash. That money still wasn’t theirs to take!

 

Goddamn. Hiro had never been this pissed off before! The next time he saw Jimmu, he was punching him in the face. In fact, today was Friday, wasn't it? He could go down to "The Emperor" tonight and slug him right there and then.

 

Before he could get up, his phone rang. Hiro picked up the phone, “Yes, Hamada Hiro speaking.”

 

“Hello, Hiro! Guess what!” Aunt Cass’s voice excitedly said.

 

“Aunt Cass??”

 

The call from his aunt was completely unexpected. In fact, wasn’t it already past midnight for her? Aunt Cass continued speaking, “I won five hundred thousand dollars in a lottery! Whooo hooo!! Now I can do the upgrades I’ve been wanting to do on Lucky Cat Cafe!”

 

“Oh, wow, that’s so wicked!” Hiro smiled, glad for his aunt. She really deserved the reward. But...the timing was rather coincidental, especially with this letter from that Hojo asshole. But then, 500k was a paltry sum compared to the monumental sum that the Hojo Clan had claimed. Why would a Yakuza give cash away to Aunt Cass who wasn’t even in the same country? And WHY did he even think that Jimmu knew of her in the first place?? It was just too ridiculous and he must still be way too tired from all the work he was doing, fixing up shit around Tokyo Krei Corps.

 

“Yes, I know! I was so surprised to get the letter! It must have been one of those little lottery tickets I bought for a charity fund-raising event. In any case, I should call off now and let you get to work. I’m rather sleepy myself but I couldn’t wait to tell you the good news!” A yawn was heard over the phone and Hiro snorted. He could easily visualise her in her pyjamas and robe, yawning in the kitchen as she held the phone to her ear.

 

“Okay. Thanks for calling, Aunt Cass. Sleep well.”

 

“You have a good day, dear!”

 

The phone went silent. Putting it back, Hiro steepled his fingers and took a deep breath. Okay. He had to meet Jimmu again to settle the cash issue. And really, Jimmu was actually that guy’s real name? How pretentious.

 

Placing Jimmu’s letter aside, Hiro shook his head as he took out the yellowed letter that Aunt Cass had given him. He still couldn’t read the kanji fluently but the immersion in a japanese speaking and writing culture had done great wonders in getting his fluency in Japanese up to speed. Jeez, at this rate, Hiro wouldn’t be able to have the time to search for Tadashi, his long-lost brother. He tucked the old letter safely back into its envelope. One day.

 

As Hiro walked out of his office, he hummed a melody he couldn’t remember the words to.

 

> _Sakura sakura..._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lullaby Tadashi sings is an old Japanese folk song dating from the Edo Era, "[Sakura Sakura](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sakura_Sakura)".


	6. Chapter 6

It was now almost the end of the year and Hiro was absolutely miserable. He was out apartment hunting in the cold weather. It was his horrible luck that it just had to snow. Hiro didn’t like snow at all, not when it reminded him of the constant dream he had throughout his life, of the last time he saw Tadashi.

 

Ever since he came to Japan, his forgotten childhood before he came to live with Aunt Cass was slowly coming back in bits and pieces. They were both poignant and heart-warming memories of a loving and caring figure that Hiro never knew he had. He woke up far too often these days with tears in his eyes. No wonder he had subconsciously suppressed those memories when he was younger – they hurt far too much and the painful separation must have been the last straw for his younger self, unable to cope with the loss.

 

While Hiro didn’t feel Tadashi’s absence as keenly as his younger self did, he had to admit feeling off-kilter, as though he was drifting through life without an anchor to ground him. Hiro didn’t like it, too accustomed to his previous life where he thought he had no elder brother. He had been much more comfortable and assured then ( _cocky_ , Aunt Cass would have corrected.) For his own peace of mind, Hiro needed to find Tadashi.

 

But what would he do after he found Tadashi? Hiro had no idea. He still hadn’t even _started_ searching for his missing brother. Goddamn work getting in the way of his plans. Hiro was so busy that he hadn’t even found the time to go bot-fighting, good grief!

 

The locals were absolutely terrible in meetings, too polite to say no and talking in circles instead of getting to the point, wasting their time on meaningless hot air. It was an antithesis to the blunt and direct agenda-driven meetings San Fransokyo HQ favoured. But slowly, Hiro was changing that, leading by example with his weekly discussions with the R&D staff and writing up a standard meeting procedure to be used in all future meetings. So far so good, progress was being made.

 

As Hiro wandered down the snowy street, he idly checked his mobile for the address of his prospective new abode. While living in a hotel suite was nice, he couldn’t continue living there and he had already moved out into a serviced apartment a while back. It was cheaper and allowed him to prepare his own meals in the small kitchenette but it was still nowhere as good as an actual apartment.

 

But damn, was it hard finding a place to live in land-scarce Tokyo. High-rise apartments were a good option, but the good ones near the business district were far too expensive (hey, even if he was the CEO, he didn’t have leave to freely spend Krei Corps’ cash on his accommodations). The more affordable ones were either too far out or too dilapidated. Not to even mention the ones in the seedier areas of the city. Hiro didn’t fancy living _there_ when he was still a stranger in this new country.

 

God bless Satou though. The loyal chauffeur had kindly gone out of his way to help him with his apartment hunt, calling up his contacts in the real estate industry. It was thanks to him that Hiro had finally found a good lead, a conveniently located high-rise apartment in Yoyogi, right between Shinjuku and Shibuya. It even had a lovely park nearby, a rarity in the densely built up Tokyo. It felt a little like San Fransokyo’s parks as Hiro strolled through the park.

 

The real estate agent was waiting for him at the lobby of the condominium when Hiro finally emerged from the park. She asked, “Are you Hamada Hiro?”

 

“Yes, I am. I’ll like to look at the apartment now.” They exchanged name cards. After reading her card, Hiro greeted her, “Nice to meet you, Ms Hoshino.”

“It’s a pleasure, Mr Hamada. Please follow me.” Ms Hoshino was tiny, perhaps even shorter than Aunt Cass. Hiro glanced around, noting that although the exterior looked like it dated from the 70s, the interior was very modern and wouldn’t have looked out of place in a high-end hotel. Interesting.

 

The lift was operated by key-cards, a feature that Hiro approved of.  Extra security was a desirable factor. When the lifts stopped on the 9th floor, Ms Hoshino led him into a white hallway. Her long straight black hair swayed with her brisk movements as her heels clicked on the marble floor. After passing around four doors, she stopped in front of a plain black door and unlocked it with a key. At Hiro’s raised eyebrow, she explained, “We’ve had cases where the electronic locks on the doors failed before. It was decided that it was safe to use keys instead.”

 

“Ooh. That makes sense.” Hiro laughed at the image of hapless people accidentally locked in their homes. If that had happened to him, he simply would have macguyvered his way out. Electronic locks were easy to dismantle once you knew how they were constructed.

  
Ms Hoshino pushed open the door once the lock clicked open. They both stepped into the studio apartment. Hiro whistled, impressed with the spaciousness of the flat. While nothing to sneeze at compared to his home in San Fransokyo, it was still impressively large for a single-person apartment in Tokyo.

 

"May I start the tour now?" Ms Hoshino asked as she stood in the middle of the living room. 

 

"Go ahead!" Hiro smiled at her. He was keen to see what this place had to offer.

 

* * *

 

“-and that’s end of the tour, Mr Hamada. Do you have any further questions?” Ms Hoshino asked after she finished the tour. Hiro rubbed his chin as he looked around the main living area, “Not really. I’m pretty satisfied with what I’ve seen. How much is the rent?”

 

Ms Hoshino checked her notes before replying, “It’s about 140, 000 yen per month including utilities.”

 

“Uh. Pretty pricy…” Hiro muttered as he did the maths. The rental fee was really high, but still within his budget. Oh well, it didn’t seem like he would find a better place than this. He said, “Alright, I’ll take it. When do I sign the lease?”

 

“Ah, ok, I’ll let the landlord know that you’re renting! I’ll meet you within a week with the necessary documentation.” Ms Hoshino smiled, pleased to have made a sale. Hiro smiled back at her, “Yeah, that’ll be great. You have my number on the card.”

 

“Shall I walk you out?” She offered with a small wave at the door. Hiro shook his head, “Nah, that won’t be necessary. Going down doesn’t require me to have key-card, right?”

 

“Yes, you’re right.” She bowed, “Thank you for coming, Mr Hamada. Have a good day.”

 

Hiro bowed back, “You too. See you next week.”

 

Mission accomplished and a new home secured, Hiro felt rather pleased as he left the hallway. Meanwhile, Ms Hoshino switched off the lights and checked that the windows were locked before she left the apartment. After she locked the front door, she took out her mobile and speed-dialed a number, “Sir, Hamada Hiro has decided to rent the apartment. Shall I proceed with the handover documentation?”

 

“Go ahead.” A male voice asked, “Was he happy with the apartment?”

 

“Yes, he had no complaints.”

 

“Excellent. You have done well, Ms Hoshino.” He thanked her, “Thank you for taking on this mission. Please continue to keep watch over his movements.”

 

Ms Hoshino smirked, “Of course, sir. I’m the best fujita in business after all.”

 

“Keep me updated.” The phone went silent and Ms Hoshino placed her hand on her hip as she stared towards the lift. This mission from the boss was becoming more and more interesting…

 

* * *

 

Somehow, Hiro found himself back at “The Emperor” again. His plans to go clubbing was STILL being foiled, even worse now that it was close to Christmas with many more people out to have fun. At least he was more formally dressed in smart casual clothes that met the bar’s dress-code requirements.

 

Ugh. _Jimmu_. Did Hiro really want to see that guy again? Yeah sure, he still had to settle the cash issue but outside of that, did he really want to see him outside of working hours? Especially considering that he was a Yakuza Boss, with a capital ‘B’. Hiro might be reckless, but he also had some street sense - no messing around with Yakuza unless you were ready to deal with the consequences.

 

Further more, he had tried to do some research on what the Hojo Clan was, but there was little public information on it. The rest of it was kept strictly classified behind formidable firewalls that Hiro couldn’t hack yet. So he only knew that they were very powerful in the underworld and extremely rich.

 

“Oh yeah. I slept with that guy. On my first night here, no less. Good going, genius.” Hiro sardonically said into his drink. Some new guests walked into the bar. Hiro barely gave them any notice as he slowly sipped his drink.

 

“...Hamada? Why are you here?”

 

Speak of the devil.

 

“Can’t I come here and have a drink every now and then? It’s not forbidden, is it?” Hiro retorted as he lazily turned his seat to look up at Jimmu. Hojo Jimmu didn’t look pleased to see him (and gosh darn it, he was still just as smoking hot as he remembered, cutting a dashing figure in his suit.)

 

Jimmu shot him a dark glare that had had lesser men quivering and prostrating themselves before him but Hiro wasn’t intimidated. It was difficult to feel scared when he already knew what Jimmu looked or sounded like during sex. Whoooa okay, bad brain, bad. He didn’t need those thoughts right now. Hiro smirked at Jimmu.

 

“...I’ll admit that I wasn’t expecting to see you again after our last meeting.” Jimmu stiffly said. Dismissing his subordinates that were watching them from a distance, he sat beside Hiro. He politely smiled, “Especially not when you’re still so incensed over that issue.”

 

Hiro growled, “Don’t make me punch you! I’d hate to spill my drink. That money was not _yours_ to take.”

 

Jimmu laughed. He motioned to the bartender, “I’ll have what he’s having.”

 

As the bartender prepared the dark cocktail, Jimmu looked at Hiro and said, “While you have your duties as a CEO to uphold, I also have my own responsibilities as the Clan head. That man owed us a fortune and he was far _overdue_. It is not my fault that he also swindled Krei Corps over the years. In fact, I should be asking you why your company failed to discover this until recently.”

 

The bartender slid a lowball glass of Black Russian over to Jimmu. As Jimmu took his first sip, Hiro ignored the jab and asked, “What did your men do with him? Is he still alive?”

 

“He is. Bankrupt, but alive.” Jimmu casually said as though he was talking about the weather. Hiro felt a shiver run down his spine - alive but in what _condition_? He didn’t dare to ask. So he skipped to his next question, “How did your men manage to find him?”

 

“That’s a secret.” Jimmu smirked at Hiro’s irritated face. He was clearly having fun at Hiro’s expense. Grumbling to himself, Hiro drank the last of his cocktail. He was done here.

 

“Let me buy you another drink, Hamada.” Jimmu’s unexpected offer stopped him from getting up. Hiro raised an eyebrow, “Why?”

 

Jimmu shrugged his shoulders, “I find our conversations to be quite entertaining. It’s also still early.”

 

“...Is it an attempt to seduce me?” Hiro suspiciously asked. Jimmu’s lips thinned. He shook his head, “No, I assure you, this is not a seduction attempt.”

 

“Right. Okay.” Hiro told the bartender, “I’ll have a Rum Coke. Put it on this guy’s tab.”

 

The bartender nodded and began to concoct his order. Jimmu asked, “If you don’t mind me asking, how long will you be in Japan?”

 

“Three to five years.”

 

“That’s quite long,” Jimmu remarked, “I thought you would only be staying for a year?”

 

“Nah. A year’s too short for what I’m here to do with Tokyo Krei Corps. Don’t even try asking by the way. I’m contractually obligated not to say anything about my job.”

 

“Ha. I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

A highball glass of Rum Coke was placed in front of Hiro and he drank it. The conversation was slightly surreal, but it was easy and relaxed as they touched on various topics, mostly centering on Hiro’s life in San Fransokyo. Jimmu was fascinated by San Fransokyo, it seemed. He even said at one point, “Wow, I would have liked to study at SFIT. It sounds amazing.”

 

The potent combination of two hard cocktails loosened Hiro’s tongue, “You know, aside from working with Krei Corps, I’m also here to look for someone…”

 

“...Ah.”

 

“His name is Tadashi Hamada. It’s only very recently that I’ve started regaining my childhood memories of him.”

 

“You had amnesia?” Jimmu sounded surprised. Hiro blinked. He slowly nodded, “Yeah... Couldn’t remember anything before I was nine years old. I now understand why I couldn’t remember - my mind wasn’t ready to handle the trauma.”

 

“I...see.” Jimmu rubbed the back of his neck. Hiro sighed. He didn’t think that he would ever succeed finding Tadashi when it had been so many years since then...

 

“So Jimmu, could you help me find Tadashi Hamada?” Hiro blurted before he could think. Jimmu stilled. But Hiro was on a roll, a seed of an idea growing in his mind. If Jimmu’s men could find his predecessor so easily, they surely could help him find Tadashi.

 

“Hell, I’ll drop the cash issue if you can help me with this. It’s very important to me.” Hiro bargained. Jimmu coldly said, “No. There is no point in helping you.”

 

“Why? Do you want to be paid or what?”

  
  
“Hah! Nothing of the sort.” Jimmu scoffed. Dread squeezed Hiro's heart as Jimmu’s warm smile turned into one of cold malice. His dark voice was silky smooth as he said, “Tadashi died years ago.”

 

Hiro’s mind went blank. No, he wasn’t hearing this. He didn’t want to hear anymore. But Jimmu shattered all his hopes with his cruel words, “In fact, I killed him myself.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

All traces of geniality in Jimmu were completely replaced by icy ruthlessness. The visceral reality of Jimmu’s identity as a Yakuza Clan Head sank in like a blade to the gut as Hiro stared at him in pure shock. Jimmu was still smiling but it was humourless and sharp like the edge of a blade.

 

As Jimmu popped open his cuffs, he remarked, “Tadashi was a weak man. He couldn’t hope to live for long the way he was. Nor did he wish to live. So I simply granted his wish. Hamada, hate me if you must, but know that Tadashi is much happier dead than if he were still alive today.”

 

Hiro couldn’t detect any lie in Jimmu’s cruel words. He grew dizzy as a torrent of emotions flooded him, too quick and muddled for him to easily sort through. Tadashi was dead. Jimmu killed him. His breaths grew rapid as he helplessly stared down at the bar’s dark surface. Hiro closed his eyes. He took a deep, shuddering breath.

 

“…Why? Why tell me when you know that I’m Tadashi’s brother? Aren’t you worried that I will try to get my revenge?”

 

“Why indeed.” Jimmu murmured. His expression softened just a little, “Because you deserve to know what happened to your brother. I am sorry, for what it’s worth.”

 

Hiro’s eyes were hot with unshed tears. Anger and grief collided and mixed into a volatile explosion. He raised his arm and punched Jimmu across his jaw, sending him to the floor. Hiro then grabbed his glass and emptied it over him as he hissed, “I _loathe_ you. I wish you had never been _born_!”

 

Jimmu’s men immediately stood, ready to beat Hiro into a pulp for assaulting their boss. But Jimmu held up his hand, wordlessly ordering them to stand down. He slicked back his damp hair and stood up. He licked his hand, tasting the alcohol and blood from a cut on the inside of his cheek. He said mildly, “What a waste of fine alcohol.”

 

Hiro silently glared. Jimmu struck like a snake, grabbing his throat and slamming him down on the bar counter. He loomed over Hiro; “I’ll let you off this once because I deserved that. However, next time, if you dare to assault my person again in such a disrespectful manner, you’ll regret it.”

 

Hiro pulled at Jimmu’s arm as he struggled to escape from Jimmu’s strong grip, unable to breathe. Thankfully, Jimmu quickly released him. He asked the bartender, “Do you have a towel?”

 

“Yes sir, I’ll bring you one right away!” The intimidated bartender hurried to retrieve a towel. Hiro rubbed at his neck, gasping for air. His fury was still present, but it was now a simmer instead of boiling rage. When the bartender returned with the towel, Jimmu snatched it from him and began to wipe off the dark liquid, ignoring Hiro on the counter.

 

Humiliated, Hiro slid off the counter and pointedly ignored Jimmu as he shouldered past the growing crowd. He was far too upset to speak.

 

* * *

 

As soon as Hiro reached his apartment, he scrambled for Tadashi’s precious letter. He desperately read through it once more, trying to find some hidden clue to Tadashi’s whereabouts in his words. How had Tadashi gotten to know Jimmu? Was Jimmu someone Hiro knew from his still hazy childhood?

 

The letter revealed nothing. His grief and rage renewed, “You sent me away so I would be safe. But at what cost to _you_? Now you’re dead. How _monumentally stupid_.”

 

Hiro laughed uglily, “I am such an idiot. Having such hopes of finding you here when it’s been so many years. I can’t even remember your face all that well; so how would I know what you would look like now? We’re both idiots.”

 

Like a flame burning out, Hiro’s emotional energy guttered out and he collapsed limply into his sofa. Emotionally and physically exhausted, he drifted off into an uneasy sleep with the letter clutched in his hand.

 

* * *

 

“Kill it.”

 

The teacher pushed the gun into Hiro’s hands. Hiro looked at the stray dog that he had rescued just a few days prior from a snowstorm. It was yapping loudly and tugging at its chain that kept it tied to the pole in the middle of the training grounds. Hiro hesitantly lifted the gun – it was heavy and felt cold to the touch.

 

“Hurry up. If you don’t kill the animal before noon, you’ll be punished.” The teacher impatiently said, shoving Hiro forward.

 

“…W-why do I have to?” Hiro stuttered. His hands were shaking in fear. He didn’t want to kill the dog but at the same time, he didn’t want to be punished. Tadashi wasn’t present as usual, occupied with his own lessons.

 

The teacher’s expression didn’t change as he swiftly slapped Hiro. He coldly said, “Kill it. You knew that animals are not allowed in the compound. But yet, you brought it in. You are responsible for your actions and you must now face the consequences.”

 

Hiro bit his lips, struggling not to cry as his cheek stung from the blow. He slowly lifted his arms, aiming his gun at the dog. The dog whimpered and lowered itself to the ground. Guilt-stricken, Hiro gazed at the dog.

 

If only he hadn’t brought it in from the cold, the dog would have probably survived, even if it were a slim chance. In here, its death was already certain the moment it was discovered. The dog whined mournfully and his hands wavered.

 

Hiro threw the gun away. He stood his ground, “I won’t kill the dog. It doesn’t deserve to die.”

 

The teacher’s face was like stone as he retrieved the gun. He walked over to Hiro and hit him again, sending Hiro to the ground. Hiro’s lip bled. The teacher placed the gun beside Hiro and he coldly said, “Pick up the gun and shoot it. It’s so simple even an _idiot_ like you can do it. Unless you’re worse than an idiot?”

 

_Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…!_

“You’re crying? What a useless student you are.” The teacher exasperatedly said. Hiro leapt to his feet, wiping his tears away as he repeated, “I will not kill the dog!”

“I see. So this is how far you can only go. Such a shame…” The teacher didn’t seem surprised. He picked up the gun and pointed it at Hiro’s head; “I was given orders by our esteemed leader to execute you if you failed to keep up in your training in the Clan.”

 

Hiro’s eyes widened and he quickly crossed his arms over his face, squeezing his eyes shut.

 

A gunshot rang out. A dull thud was heard. Then Hiro felt Tadashi’s familiar arms wrap around him and his brother said, “Hiro. You’re safe now.”

 

Relieved beyond words, Hiro tried to look up at Tadashi’s face but Tadashi’s grip only tightened and pulled him in closer into his chest. His brother’s voice was tight with a thrumming fury, “Don’t look.”

 

“Master…your grandfather will not be pleased when he hears about this.” Another man’s voice spoke. Tadashi growled, his chest rumbling under Hiro’s cheek.

 

“That old man is no grandfather of ours. He just tried to have Hiro _killed_! His own grandson!”

 

Hiro was growing faint, the stress and his near-death experience finally becoming too much for him. Tadashi immediately noticed him growing limp in his arms and he panicked, “Hiro, Hiro, stay awake!”

 

“Nii-san…” Hiro could only whisper as his eyes closed, “I’m sorry…for taking you away from your lessons…”

 

“Hiro…!”

 

…

 

……

 

When Hiro woke again, he was in Tadashi’s bed with a bandage over taped over his cheek. His cheek tingled from the medical salve. Tadashi was sitting beside him, a distant look in his eyes as he looked down at the gun in his hands. Hiro called, “Tadashi? What happened?”

 

Tadashi jolted as though he had been electrified. He smiled at Hiro, obvious relief showing as his shoulders slumped. As he placed the gun aside, he said, “You passed out from shock.”

 

“I know. I mean, what happened to the teacher?” Hiro asked. Tadashi’s smile took on a brittle edge, “He’s gone.”

 

“Oh…” Hiro muttered. Feeling exhaustion creep over him once more, he snuggled closer to Tadashi, “What about the dog?”

 

“He’s been adopted by our neighbours.” Tadashi answered as he joined Hiro under the blankets. Hiro hummed as he felt Tadashi’s fingers card through his hair. He turned and curled in closer to Tadash’s warm body, clutching at his shirt. Hiro whispered, “Can you promise to never leave me alone?”

 

“I promise.” Tadashi solemnly said. “Go back to sleep, buddy.”

 

Tadashi pulled up the blankets and Hiro closed his eyes, listening to the comforting pulse of his brother’s heartbeat. It lulled him back to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Hiro’s alarm woke him up. As he got up from his pretzel-like contortion from the sofa, he groaned as his stiff body ached and creaked. At least he didn’t have a hangover. Hiro was feeling a lot calmer now. He had gotten another hazy memory, it seemed. But the details were still far too vague, as wont with all other memories.

 

Paper crinkled in his hand and Hiro belatedly realised that he had almost crushed Tadashi’s letter, “Oh shit!”

 

Tenderly smoothing the old paper out on his coffee table, Hiro was immensely relieved that the paper hadn’t gotten any tears other than a few extra creases. But wait a moment…something about Tadashi’s handwriting niggled at the back of his mind. There was a clue hidden in those thin lines, but what exactly was it? Hiro leaned back, racking his brains as he stared hard at the black characters.

 

“Argh, whatever! It’s pointless. I’ve got to get going for work. This is meaningless.” Hiro rubbed his head in exasperation when he came up with nothing. He scowled as he recalled what Jimmu had said last night. He was still furious with that asshole, but now that he was thinking more clearly, it was really weird, wasn’t it?

 

Who in their right mind, would admit to killing a person’s relative to the same person? It didn’t make sense unless they were psychopathic and enjoyed other people’s pain. And honestly, while Jimmu was an ass, he didn’t strike him as a psychopath.

 

So, was it possible that Jimmu had been lying in some form? In order to conceal a secret…Hiro put his hand to his chin as his mind started whirring through several possibilities. But in the end, he had to give up when there were too many possibilities. He needed more information on the Hojo Clan and what exactly it did in Japan’s underworld before he could narrow them down.

 

“Curiouser and curiouser.”

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

“ _Kumicho_ , one of our branches in Chiyoda-ku was attacked last night. We suspect it was the Kyokuto-kai who did it.”

 

Jimmu looked up from the reports he was reading through. He raised an eyebrow and asked, “Is there proof that it was the Kyokuto-kai who did it? They’re small fish.”

 

His subordinate took out his mobile and showed him the photo of the site – the Kyokuto-kai logo was emblazoned in red on the walls of the trashed office. Jimmu leaned back in his chair, a frown on his face.

 

“Curious. If it were really their doing, why would they deliberately antagonise the Hojo Clan now?”

 

His subordinate, the _wakagashira_ of the Hojo Clan offered his thoughts, “Perhaps, they wish to tarnish the Hojo Clan’s reputation in the eyes of the people. We may not be the largest, but we have a long history and are extremely well connected with the rich and elite. They fear you, boss, who brought up our Clan to new heights.”

 

Jimmu scoffed, “Kouta, our numbers haven’t changed all that much since I came to the helm. In fact, it’s the other way round for most of the other gangs – I was just reading this very interesting report that the largest group Yamaguchi’s numbers are rapidly falling due to the new laws our government has passed.”

 

Kouta shrewdly remarked, “The laws that you pushed for?”

 

Jimmu only smirked and asked, “Back to the Chiyoda-ku attack, were there any casualties?”

 

“Only some injuries. No one died.”

 

“That’s good to hear. Please get the _sohonbucho_ to cover the medical expenses and continue to investigate the Chiyoda-ku attack – it may not be the Kyokuto-kai’s doing even if all clues point to them. It pays to be thorough.” Jimmu dismissed him as he returned to his reports.

 

“Yes sir.” Kouta gave a short bow and left.

 

Once Kouta’s footsteps had faded, Jimmu took out his mobile. When the person finally picked up the phone, he coolly said, “Was Chiyoda-ku your doing?”

 

“No, of course not. Why would I dare to attack my fellow clan members?” A feminine voice purred in honeyed tones.

 

“You’ve never liked any competition. I wouldn’t put it past you to take such actions to pin the blame on others just so you can have an excuse to usurp their territory. Do not ever do such a thing without my express permission, or dare to hurt our own men.”

 

“Aw. That really hurts my feelings, cousin. You’re always so cold to your dear cousin.” She spoke facetiously, “Well Jimmu, if it does turn out not to be my fault, will you publicly apologise?”

 

“I’ll do what I must if it comes to that. The Hojo Clan doesn’t suffer insults lightly.” Jimmu firmly said. He twirled his pen and continued, “But if you are responsible for this, you won’t get off lightly even if you’re my cousin, Sasori.”

 

Sasori giggled, “Heehee. You’re still such an old-fashioned square. No sense of humour at all.”

 

There was nothing much more to be said to his cousin, the _fukuhonbucho_ of East Tokyo.  Hojo Jimmu refrained from sighing and said, “Don’t forget to attend the annual Sakura Viewing Festival in spring.”

 

“Of course, I’ll be there. It’ll be lovely to see you again, hmm?”

 

“Goodbye. It was a pleasure.”

 

Jimmu ended the conversation right there and then, unwilling to talk further with his cousin. Sasori might seem whimsical and air-headed but she wasn’t named the “Scorpion” for nothing. She was a very dangerous and ambitious person who had climbed her way through the ranks by tooth and claw in spite of her gender and the Yakuza’s traditionalist rules. He didn’t want to reveal any more weaknesses than necessary to this dangerous scorpion.

 

* * *

 

 In the course of his research, Hiro had learned a lot about the yakuza and how deeply entrenched they were in Japan’s society – it had been very startling to learn that they actually openly flaunted their identities as though they weren’t criminals. The yakuza even had some measure of popularity among the people. Holy cow, they were also the richest, most numerous and widely spread organised crime racket in the world. Not even the mafia could match their 60,000 odd numbers and wealth of 80 billion USD.

 

“But that still doesn’t answer my question…” Hiro grumbled as he clicked on another link. Despite the wealth of information on the yakuza and the various gangs (they were very forthcoming about themselves and took great pride in their gangs), the Hojo Clan stood out as a mysterious anomaly. Not even their _daimon_ could be found easily and there was scant mention of the Hojo Clan.

 

Oh sure, there were two very interesting Wikipedia articles on the Hojo Clan of the 12th century and the Late Hojo Clan of the 15th century. They were apparently both samurai families with powerful ties to the monarchy and introduced much of Japan’s feudal laws. They were known to have dictated Japan’s fate behind closed doors in the secret of the night. But there was nothing to connect Hojo Jimmu’s Clan to them. Surely, a yakuza Clan couldn’t be descended from such powerful samurai.

 

But weirder things had happened before…Hiro sighed. He couldn’t rule out that possibility so quickly. So it seemed that if he wanted more information, he would have to either go digging in the underworld or ask Jimmu directly…

 

Hell fucking _no_. He wasn’t going to ask Jimmu. He was never going to trust someone who might have actually killed Tadashi. So where would he start his investigations? He didn’t think it was a good idea to go back to “The Emperor” as it was clearly Jimmu’s turf. Perhaps somewhere a bit further away from Roppongi, like Akihabara. In fact, Hiro could indulge in bot-fighting for once at the same time.

 

Grinning in anticipation, Hiro changed into his casual street clothes and slid small black devices into his pocket. He strapped on a watch of his design and finally picked up Megabot from his bedside table. He said to it, “Time to make a killing, buddy.”

 

* * *

 

Akihahara was quite an experience in itself as Hiro explored the streets, keeping a sharp eye out for any sign of botfighters. There were many electronic shops here that almost tempted Hiro to change his mind and go shopping instead as they sold electronic parts that weren’t so easily available in San Fransokyo and at much cheaper rates too! Alas, Hiro would have to do it at another time.

 

Finally spotting some people carrying robots, Hiro grinned and tugged the hood over his head. Holding Megabot in his hand, he tailed them, taking care to look like he knew where he was going. If he guessed correctly, they should be heading towards a bot-fighting ring.

 

It was troublesome trying to keep up with them in this damn crowd though. Hiro almost lost them a couple of times but somehow managed to keep up with them. Eventually the botfighters stopped and ducked into an alley. As Hiro watched from a safe distance away, he watched them enter a door guarded by a bouncer, who surely was one of the Yakuza with intimidating tattoos on his bare muscular arms.

 

Great. This was exactly what Hiro was looking for. But now, how to enter the building? Hopefully, the illegal botfighting rings here in Tokyo were similarly regulated like in San Fransokyo, which is to say, not at all. Mentally shrugging, Hiro went for it. Holding up Megabot in front of him, he stepped up to the bouncer and asked, “Hey, can I enter?”

 

The bouncer looked him over and only saw a young teenager with a robot out to have some fun. He wordlessly stepped aside. Well…that was surprisingly easy. Hiro nodded to him in thanks and briskly walked in before the bouncer changed his mind.

 

It was dim inside with spotlights scattered here and there focused on the arenas. It was a noisy cacophony with the metallic clang of robots smashing against each other, the competitors and audience shouting and loud music playing.

 

_Oh man, this is really something. You’d never see anything like this in San Fransokyo._

As Hiro wended his way through the crowd, he noticed more than a few men in suits and pomades loitering around the room. Damn, yakuza were really in control of the underground botfighting scene. But the question was, which Clan did they belong to? Hiro needed to get a look at their rings that should show their allegiance – he had memorised all twenty-one yakuza gangs’ daimon that were available in his research. He could safely eliminate about half of them from the list, as they weren’t based in Tokyo.

 

Alright, Hiro could either start botfighting or snoop around about the Hojo Clan. Drawing on his years of misspent youth in the streets of San Fransokyo, Hiro casually drew close enough to a yakuza to see the daimon on his ring – ah, it was a sakura shaped logo with a kanji. So it was the Kyokuto-kai in charge. Hiro then walked past the yakuza, stealthily slipping a listening bug into his pocket. He repeated the process with a few more yakuza men until he had used up all his listening bugs.

 

Mission accomplished.

 

Hiro then took a seat at the bar and ordered a drink as he activated the listening bug through his watch. As he sipped his drink, he tuned into the yakuza’s conversation, jumping from bug to bug until he finally hit an interesting conversation.

 

“The Hojo Clan were asking around about the Chiyoda-ku attack earlier. They seem to think it was us who did it!”

 

“No way in hell! We weren’t anywhere near their territory! Who in their right mind would dare to mess around with that Clan??”

 

“Who fucking did it then?? We gotta find the bastards or that Hojo Jimmu is gonna have our heads.”

 

Oohh. This was really exciting. Hiro turned up the volume to hear their conversation more easily.

 

“–but if we can’t find the culprits, what do we do?”

 

“…”

 

“…Hey. What if the Hojo Clan framed us? Made us look like the perps and make us take the fall for it so they can come in nice and easy-like and steal our territory?”

 

“…Huh. That could be true.”

 

Hiro raised an eyebrow. Was Jimmu really the sort to use such underhanded means to snatch control from his enemies? Maybe. He didn’t really know him that well enough to say for certain. But he had the gut feeling that it wasn’t his style.

 

“Hey, you there. What are you doing?”

 

Hiro was roughly pulled up from his seat. A yakuza that reminded a lot of Yama back home in San Fransokyo held up one of his listening bugs. Hiro fought to keep his face from showing his real emotions, “What the heck?? Can’t I enjoy my drink in peace??”

 

Yama-lookalike crushed the bug between his fingers and Hiro couldn’t contain a wince as a high-pitched squeal assaulted his ear. The yakuza growled and shook him, “You’re a spy, aren’t you?! Are you a damned Hojo spy??”

 

Fuck. His cover was blown.

 

“No way! I’m not even a yakuza!” Hiro protested angrily. Like hell, was he working for Jimmu! Unfortunately, the yakuza misinterpreted his answer and he growled, “You’re a undercover detective!”

 

The other yakuza heard the commotion and were making their way towards them. They had taken out their knives. Hiro was going to die here if he didn’t do something quick…Luckily, he had already anticipated this happening though. Hiro smirked, “Nah, try again.”

 

His neurotransmitter hidden by his hair and hood, Hiro only had to think, _Megabot, destroy._

 

Megabot sprung to action, splitting into three. Spinning at high speeds, it rolled up his captor’s body and promptly slammed into his face and wrist simultaneously. As soon as his captor’s grip loosened, Hiro lashed out with a kick at his gut, winding him and rolled when he hit the floor. Then he made a run for the door.

 

Easily slipping through the crowd with his slender build and speed, Hiro was almost at the door when an ear-splitting screech sent him crashing. His head feeling like it was going to split from the infernal noise, he quickly covered his ears, trying to pull out the earbuds so he wouldn’t go deaf. By the time he had sufficiently recovered to stand, the yakuza had finally caught up to him. A few of them held the crushed listening bugs in their hands. Hiro sighed, “Gosh darn it. Should have worked on their in-“

 

Hiro didn’t get to finish his words as the closest yakuza knocked him out cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Glossary**  
>  **kumicho** \- supreme boss  
>  **wakagashira** \- second hand man  
>  **sohonbucho** \- headquarters chief  
>  **fukuhonbucho** \- a level below wakagashira  
>  **daimon** \- clan logo
> 
> Akihabara is one of the districts in Chiyoda-ku. Good going, Hiro.


	9. Chapter 9

Hiro woke up with a pounding headache. His arms were tied behind his back and the neurotransmitter was gone. Hiro gingerly sat up, his head threatening to split with his movements. He looked around, seeing that no one was in the bare room. There was a solitary door in front of him but it was definitely locked. A window too high up for him to reach but it didn’t matter, as it was also far too small for him to crawl through.

 

Hiro tested his bonds, trying to see if he could loosen the ropes. They refused to budge. Damn. The room also didn’t have any items that could help him to escape – it was utilitarian and furnished with only a few empty shelves. This was obviously a storage room. At least it was clean.

 

Judging from the bright light coming through the window, it was already the next day. But he couldn’t tell what time it was. Despite his dire situation, Hiro didn’t panic. As long as he maintained his cool and bided his time, he could escape from the Kyokuto-kai who had mistaken him for a Hojo spy/undercover detective.

 

_Hm. Do I have to wait long for Kyokuto-kai to show up again?_

Hiro examined the shelves around him again, trying to see if he had missed anything during his first overview. Nothing. He sighed noisily; tough luck, huh? Deciding to investigate his surroundings further, he snuck over to the door and pressed his ear to it. He could hear voices outside his prison. They sounded angry and panicked.

 

“What do you mean you still haven’t found the culprits??”

 

“Boss, none of us did it! There were no witnesses.”

 

“Fucking hell. The Hojo Clan is gonna rain hell on us if they don’t get their answer soon!”

 

“Umm…sir, what about the kid we caught snooping around in Akihabara?”

 

“What about him?!”

 

“Well…he said that he wasn’t a yakuza or a copper. Do ya think we could set him up as the culprit behind the attack on Hojo?”

 

“IDIOT!! He’s only one person! Do you really think he could pull off that?? The Hojo Clan will never accept it!”

 

“Then what shall we do with him?”

 

“Eh, get rid of him. He’s nobody important. We’ll figure out something else.”

 

“Yes sir!”

 

Hiro quickly pulled back from the door, his face pale with apprehension. This was getting too far out of hand. If he didn’t think fast, he was going to become fish food in the Tokyo Bay. Quick, quick, was there a way out of this?? Hiro’s eyes darted around the bare prison but came up with nothing. Could he knock out the yakuza when they came in? No, he couldn’t. His hands were literally tied and while he had a black belt in karate, he wasn’t that _good._

 

The door creaked open.

 

* * *

 

Busy as usual in his office, Jimmu received a call on his mobile. He picked it up, “Yes?”

 

“ _Kumicho_ , Kyokuto-kai denies that they were responsible for Chiyoda-ku. However, they say that they have someone whom you might know. They’ll let him go if the Hojo Clan promises not to crush them.”

 

“Oh? What’s their name then?” Jimmu was intrigued; it was the first time that a small-time gang had tried to negotiate with the Hojo Clan.

 

“Ah…they say it’s Hamada Hiro. What are your orders, sir?”

 

That _brat_. How the hell had he gotten involved in this? Jimmu glared out of his window in the direction of Chiyoda-ku. That Hamada was far too much trouble. But yet…this unusual request for parley must have been his doing. Small-time gangsters weren’t that smart enough to actually negotiate, preferring to shoot first, then ask questions.

 

“Sir?”

 

“Keep them talking. I’ll go down in person to ascertain for myself if they’re telling the truth. But if Hamada’s hurt, all bets are off. Make that clear to them.”

 

“O-of course. We’ll keep them busy.”

 

“Good. I’ll be there in about an hour.” Jimmu rose from his chair and slung on his coat.

 

* * *

 

Miraculously, Hiro’s quick thinking and silver tongue had managed to place him into an advantageous position. Convincing the Kyokuto-kai to contact the Hojo Clan about him, had been slightly difficult when they didn’t believe him – like hell an outsider would know Hojo Jimmu, right?

 

But Hiro had been persistent and played on their fears of worse retribution if they tried to off him and it turned out that he had been telling the truth all along. So as it was, the Kyokuto-kai had a fifty-fifty percent chance of either being crushed or left alone.

 

Now Hiro was left waiting, guarded by two yakuza in the storeroom/prison as the negotiations continued. It was really tedious and boring, just waiting around. His hands were still tied behind his back because they didn’t trust him as far as they could throw him, not to try and escape.

 

_But it’s really incredible though. Hojo Jimmu’s name really carries weight in the underworld…oh wait. Now’s the perfect time to ask questions!_

“Hey, can you tell me why you’re all so afraid of the Hojo Clan? They don’t seem that scary to me.” Hiro carefully asked, couching it in such a way it seemed like he was on familiar terms with the Hojo Clan and strengthening his bluff.

 

His guards shot him an incredulous look as though he was nuts.

 

“Dude. The Hojo Clan are like the fucking kings of the underworld! They’ve been around for centuries.”

 

“Huh huh.” Hiro hummed, prompting them to continue speaking.

 

“Yeah man, there are rumours that they’ve even got insiders high up in the government and the Defence Minister is on their payroll. You don’t wanna mess around with guys like them.”

 

The first yakuza who had spoken smacked the second yakuza’s arm, “Bro, I just remembered something! The Hojo are still connected to the Chrysanthemum Throne as one of the  _Shinnōke_ houses! So they’re practically royalty.”

 

“Shinno-what?” While the yakuza were a goldmine of information on the Hojo Clan, Hiro didn’t understand the term _shinnōke_ – it wasn’t a Japanese word he recognised.

 

“Aaah shut up!! You’re not supposed to say anything about the Hojo Clan! It’s forbidden!” The second yakuza punched his partner’s arm. Grumbling, the first yakuza shoved him back, “Same to you, idiot! Who was the one blabbing away about their connections in the government?”

 

“Those are just rumours! It’s not the same as telling this outsider that we have a shadow royal house in the underworld!”

 

The idiot duo soon fell into bickering and squabbling over whom was breaking the rules as Hiro slowly digested the new valuable information.

 

_Holy shit. If they’re telling the truth, then it’s not surprising that it’s so hard finding any information on the Hojo Clan. A secret royal cadet branch that operates in the underworld…_

God, just what had his life become since he came to Tokyo, Hiro asked to whichever deity was listening. He just wanted to do his job at Krei Corps and find Tadashi! Not get embroiled with yakuza! And now royal skeletons in the closet! Hiro barely resisted the urge to hit his head on the wall behind him on account of his still tender head.

 

_This was all Hojo Jimmu’s fucking fault!!_

 

* * *

 

The Kyokuto-kai’s chief wasn’t expecting Hojo Jimmu himself to show up, judging from his dumbstruck face. He sat down on the sofa as his bodyguards stood behind him and cut to the point, “Look me in the eye and tell me whether you did or did not attack Hojo’s office in Chiyoda-ku.”

 

The chief was a middle-aged man who favoured the retro look, heavily decked out in gold bling. He sweated heavily as he met Jimmu’s gaze and stammered, “N-no, the Kyokuto-kai never did such a thing, sir.”

Jimmu regarded the man before him, assessing whether he was telling the truth or not. He probed further, “Really? Then why is your daimon painted on our walls?”

 

The chief cringed and threw himself to the floor, “I have no idea! But I can assure you that it’s not our doing as we were out celebrating my wife’s birthday at the time! Have mercy!”

 

Jimmu sighed. Fine, this man wasn’t lying. He moved onto the next item on his agenda, “Then what of your hostage, Hamada Hiro? Was he the one who pushed you to contact me?”

 

“Ah…” The chief looked nervous. He twiddled with one of his rings as he said, “Yes, the kid was the one who suggested it.”

 

“I see. Where is he? I’ll like to speak with him.” Jimmu asked with a heavily implied order in his icy tones, _bring him here now_.

 

The chief hastily got up and waved to his men to fetch Hiro. As Jimmu waited, he asked, “May I ask how he came to be in your custody?”

 

“He was in one of our bot-fighting dens in Akihabara. He was trying to spy on us with these little listening bugs.” The chief placed small electronic pieces on the coffee table in front of Jimmu. Curious, he picked them up to examine them. He marvelled at the fine engineering, “This is excellent work.”

 

“But those are nothing compared to this robot that the kid used to attack Yamato. He was wearing this headband to control it and the robot can separate into parts! I’ve never seen anything like this before.” The chief was growing excited as he carefully placed a robot unlike anything Jimmu had seen, with a garish yellow smiley face. A white band was placed beside it.

 

Jimmu picked up the small robot to take a closer look. It was structurally simple at first glance, and joined together by magnetism. He left the headband alone, not wanting to mess around with anything that involved mind control. He smiled, “Interesting. I never thought that magnetic servo bearings could be used in such a manner.”

 

“Oh, you know what they are? I’m surprised that someone like you know about them.” Hiro’s voice quipped. He didn’t seem any worse for the wear. Jimmu looked in his direction and analysed him closely. Hiro looked rather rumpled and he was rubbing his wrists, covered with red rope burn. He was limping slightly on his right leg but otherwise; there were no outstanding injuries he could detect.

 

Jimmu stood up and thanked the relieved chief, “Thank you for your hospitality. You are absolved of the Chiyoda-ku incident. I’ll take my leave now.”

 

As he left, he signalled his bodyguards to collect Hiro’s possessions and said to Hiro, “Follow me.”

 

* * *

 

 When they were finally in the black Benz car, Jimmu crossed his arms and said, “That was a dangerous gamble you took.”

 

“But it worked, didn’t it?” Hiro unrepentantly grinned as he relaxed in his seat, relishing in his newfound freedom. The older man narrowed his eyes at him, “You’re lucky that I already had business with the Kyokuto-kai before you invaded their den. I wouldn’t have come otherwise.”

 

“Heh, but you came anyway. So I owe you one.” Hiro smirked at him and drawled, “So how do you want me to repay you? I don’t like being indebted to my brother’s supposed killer.”

 

Jimmu raised an eyebrow, “Supposed killer? You don’t think I actually killed Tadashi?”

 

“Well, where is his body?” Hiro sharply retorted.

 

“In the ocean.” Jimmu flatly answered. The younger man snorted derisively, “Yeah right, that’s complete bullshit and you know it. You’re lying now.”

 

Jimmu didn’t offer comment, looking ahead. Hiro grinned viciously, “If you can’t tell me where Tadashi’s grave is, it’s rather odd. Especially if you’re his killer.”

 

“Is it not possible that I had his body disposed by my men?” Jimmu argued.

 

“Maybe. But there’s no proof that it happened.”

 

“Nor do you have evidence to prove your claim. It’s a stalemate.”

 

Hiro laughed, finding the conversation utterly ridiculous. When he calmed, he conceded, “Fine. I still don’t really believe that you’re actually my brother’s killer if Tadashi’s actually dead in the first place. I’m still not apologising for punching you, you asshole.”

 

“In that case, I’m not apologising for choking you afterwards.” Jimmu replied bluntly. Hiro rubbed his neck, “You just had to go there.”

 

Awkward silence fell in the car. After a few minutes, Hiro asked again, “But honestly, how do you want me to settle the debt?”

 

Jimmu didn’t answer for a long moment. He finally said with a raised eyebrow, “You’ll see soon enough.”

 

Hiro’s eyes widened as he realised that he might just have jumped from the frying pan into the fire. Before he could make a move, the yakuza swiftly punched him in his solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him. As Hiro’s vision went spotty, he felt Jimmu’s arms wrap around him, cushioning his fall. He groaned, “You… _bastard_ …”

 

“Go to sleep, Hiro.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **  
> Glossary  
> **  
> [Shinnōke](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shinn%C5%8Dke) \- cadet branch of the Imperial Household of Japan


	10. Chapter 10

“Aren’t they the children of the Boss’s youngest daughter?”

“Keep quiet or you’ll wake them up.”

 

“Ah sorry. But damn, they’re pretty young. Can’t help but feel sorry for them when I think about how ruthless our Boss is, even to his own family.”

 

“Who are you?” A young child’s voice asked. The two men turned to look at the young boy who had woken up from his sleep. They looked at each other, wondering how to approach the situation – they never actually had to deal with young children before.

 

“Jan-ken-pon?”

 

“Yep.”

 

After playing three furious rounds of rock-paper-scissors, the victor pumped his fists in the air as the loser slumped. The loser, who was the thinner of the two, pushed up his sunglasses and approached the boy, “We’re employees of your old popop. He sent us to pick you up.”

 

“I didn’t know we had a grandfather.” The boy said as he stared up at him, “How did you get in?”

 

“Like a stupid lock could stop me. Anyway, kid, you don’t want to stay here any longer in this ugly orphanage right? Your grandfather was very sad when he heard that your mother died in a car accident. He wants to adopt you because you’re family.”

 

“Oh…where is he?”

 

“I am here.” The old man spoke from the doorway. He walked in, supporting himself with a cane. He saw the boy and made his way towards him.

 

“Boss!!” The two men abruptly snapped to attention, surprised that their boss had actually come all the way to San Fransokyo from Japan. The boss stood over the young boy and asked, “What is your name?”

 

“I am Tadashi Hamada.” The boy answered with wide eyes, as he looked up at the intimidating old man. The boss shook his head, “No, that is not proper. Did your mother not teach you how to properly introduce yourself in Japanese?”

 

“…I am Hamada Tadashi.” Tadashi hesitantly repeated himself. His apparent grandfather nodded, pleased with his polite answer, “Much better. Your mother was my youngest daughter and you are to be my heir.”

 

“What about my brother Hiro?” Tadashi nervously asked as he glanced over to where Hiro lay sleeping.

 

“You have a brother?” The old man raised a bushy eyebrow, not expecting this. He looked at his subordinates for an answer. His subordinates shook their head, “The younger brother was too young and often sickly so we never saw him until only recently.”

 

“I see.”

 

Tadashi  bit his lip nervously, too bewildered by the strangers that had entered his room in the orphanage. The bearded old man who reminded him of a lion, turned back to him and said, “Very well, I’ll take both of you in. It is very fortunate indeed that we have two sons. Very fortunate…”

 

The old man held out his hand to Tadashi, “Take my hand. I will take you to our homeland and Clan.”

 

* * *

 

When Hiro clawed his way to consciousness, he saw Jimmu standing by the window. He was humming a faint tune as he idly smoked a cigarette, his jacket and tie gone with his sleeves rolled up. Recalling the last moments before he had been knocked out, he scowled, “What the fuck were you trying to do??”

 

Jimmu turned at the sound of his voice and greeted him, “You’re awake.” He put out the cigarette on the window sill and flicked it into a nearby bin.

 

“Of course, I am!” Hiro got off the bed and tried to lunge at him but was stopped short by a sharp pain in his wrist. Bewildered and hissing in pain, Hiro looked at his wrist and saw that he had been cuffed to the bed-post. The chain was only long enough to allow Hiro some distance off the bed. Hiro stared at the silver band in pure shock.

 

“Always jumping before you look, Hamada. It’s a bad habit that could get you killed so very easily.” Jimmu lightly said as he stepped closer to Hiro.

 

“What are you playing at? Are you trying to be Christian Grey? You’d fit the role perfectly.” Hiro sarcastically snapped, as he struggled to bring his rattled composure back into shape. The cold metal of the handcuff around his wrist and his kidnapping at Jimmu’s hands were completely unplanned and it left him uneasy. His captor shrugged, “Sorry to disappoint your sordid fantasies, but I have absolutely no intention of doing so.”

 

Hiro fiddled with the handcuff, trying to see if he could get it off. He replied, “Then why kidnap me? People are going to ask questions if they knew I was missing.”

 

Jimmu smiled, “You don’t have to worry about that. Do you recall that I own fifty percent of Tokyo Krei Corps’ shares? That gives me some leeway over what goes on in your company. As far as anyone knows, you’re just on a well-deserved vacation in Hokkaido.”

 

Hiro felt cold at the thought that the Hojo Clan had infiltrated even Krei Corps - originally an American company, so really it shouldn't have been a target - so easily. Was this how powerful the yakuza were on their homeland? The yakuza in San Fransokyo were a joke in comparison. He tugged harder at the handcuff, the chain clinking with his efforts. Jimmu made no move to stop him.

 

Hiro finally gave up when the cold steel refused to budge. He sullenly crossed his arms and asked, “That still doesn’t answer why you kidnapped me.”

 

Jimmu's genial smile vanished. In a swift movement too fast for Hiro to perceive, he knocked him down into the bed with a sharp shove to his chest. The chain rattled as the yakuza boss crouched over Hiro, pressing a gun to his forehead (where the hell had he been hiding it??) and holding Hiro’s arms up over his head into the pillows.

 

Hiro froze as he stared up at Jimmu, far too aware that a twitch of a finger meant his death. He gulped. Jimmu's hand was steady as he rhetorically asked, "Do you even realise the implications of what you've done when you associated yourself with the Hojo Clan, especially me?"

 

"Saved my neck," Hiro automatically quipped before he could stop himself. Jimmu narrowed his eyes at him, “Unbelievable.”

 

Tracing the curve of Hiro’s cheek with the tip of the gun, Jimmu finally pressed it into the soft underside of his chin, forcing Hiro to tilt his head up. Hiro shivered. Jimmu took a deep breath and explained in a voice seething with barely hidden irritation, “You’ve made yourself a _target_ of the Hojo Clan’s enemies and perhaps, even within the Hojo Clan as well. All because you brought up my name as your _guarantor_. Let’s not even talk about your insanity of invading another yakuza gang’s den. It’s a miracle that they didn’t kill you on sight.”

 

“Then why did you rescue me? You could have just sent in someone else or, well, left me to rot.” Not one to lie down and take a verbal beating, Hiro argued, adrenaline making his blood run hot.

 

“Why did you ask for _me_? You know that I _killed_ your brother.” Jimmu retorted. Hiro hissed, “Yes, you may have killed Tadashi, but you were the only reliable one I could think of! I was trying to save my neck in the heat of the moment. So excuuse me, princess, if you were _inconvenienced._ ”

 

“That’s not good enough. You could have called in your secretary or even your chaffeur.”

 

Well yes, indeed, Hiro could have called them. But he didn’t. Why indeed.

 

“So why did you bring me into your mess?”

 

“Why did you kidnap me? You still haven’t answered that question!”

 

“Not until you tell me why you dragged my name into your mess. You’d better answer quickly.”

 

Jimmu tightened his grip on Hiro’s wrists, the metal cuff digging painfully in his flesh and bones ground against each other. Hiro bit his lower lip to prevent a pained yelp from escaping. He didn’t want to give the sadistic bastard the satisfaction of making him cry.

 

“Fuck you!!” Hiro yelled. He bucked, trying to knock the yakuza off him but to no avail. Jimmu was clearly an expert and used to handling difficult prisoners, as he quickly mounted Hiro’s chest, avoiding his kicking legs and pressing down hard on Hiro’s arms with both hands, having quickly put aside his gun to avoid a misfire.

 

Pain shooting up his arms and exhausted from his ordeal, Hiro couldn’t put up much resistance. Going limp with a pained whimper, he glared up at Jimmu. He was vindictively pleased to see that the man’s hair had gotten slightly ruffled in their brief struggle. At such close proximity, Hiro could smell tobacco still clinging to Jimmu’s breath and his masculine cologne. Jimmu’s eyes weren’t black like Hiro had thought – they were a deep brown that refracted gold in the sunlight.

 

“Are you calm? Will you answer my question?” Jimmu was implacable and stern, demanding obedience from Hiro.

 

“...I don’t fucking _know_ , _ok_??” Jimmu raised his eyebrow at the unexpected answer, but Hiro wasn’t done speaking. He ranted, “You’re right; if I was thinking clearly and calmly, I never would have called on you! But I did. And I don’t fucking know _why_.”

 

“…”

 

Hiro panted for a few moments before he finally finished with his coup de grâce, “I can’t get _you_ out of my head, asshole.”

 

 

An unreadable expression passed over Jimmu’s face, too quick for Hiro to decipher. Fortunately, he accepted his answer and released him, picking up his gun as he got off the bed. He took out a cigarette box from his pocket and picked out one. In an elegant move that spoke of habit, he lit it and took a drag.

 

“Alright. I’ll answer your question, Hamada.”

 

Hiro’s wrists ached sharply as he sat up, warily watching him lest he try to attack him again. Jimmu pointed at him with his cigarette, “I’m putting you in my custody for your own protection until the rumors quiet down. When they forget who brazenly invaded the Kyokuto-kai’s den, whether it’s a young teenager who isn’t even _twenty-one_ or a buxom Roppongi hostess, it will be safe for you to return.”

 

“…You kidnapped me in order to protect me? That’s…so unbelievable.” Hiro was completely befuddled, unable to make heads or tails of Jimmu’s answer. Jimmu chuckled. He blew out a cloud of smoke, “Is it as unbelievable as an eighteen year old breaking into a yakuza den?”

 

“Alright, you got me there. But…why go to such lengths?” Hiro was starting to understand the logic behind Jimmu’s unpredictable actions but he still couldn’t see the vital point that connected everything. Jimmu shrugged, “To repay a life-debt to Tadashi. He died so I could live. So I’m obligated to protect you, if that makes sense.”

 

“Oh.” Hiro frowned. The answer made logical sense but a faint lingering doubt whispered in his mind. But there was nothing spurious or illogical so he kept quiet.

 

“So this means I’m in your home?” Hiro looked around the room he was in, taking the time to observe the details that he had missed. His new host (…of sorts) nodded, “Yes. You’re in the guest bedroom. You’re not to wander around the compound grounds without supervision because there may be enemy spies within our ranks.”

 

Hiro didn’t like the sound of being under house-arrest but he complied with a nod. Jimmu called, “Hoshino.”

 

The door opened to reveal a woman with a familiar face. But nah, that couldn’t be that Hoshino right? The woman was, after all, dressed like a kabuki actor with a flamboyant cropped yukata that only went down to mid-thigh and high tabi-socks. Despite her geta sandals, she moved without a sound over the wooden floor. She bowed to Jimmu with her hands folded in front of her chest, “Boss, you called for this humble servant?”

 

“Supervise my guest in my absence. I want him safe and unharmed when it is time for him to return.”

 

“Of course. He will be kept safe.” Hoshino affirmed her new mission. Jimmu turned to Hiro and introduced her to him, “This is Hoshino. She will be your bodyguard during your stay. She is very good in her job.”

 

“…Haven’t I met you before?” Hiro squinted at Hoshino’s face, trying to recall where he might have met her before. Hoshino’s red lips curved into a smile, “No, we have not.”

 

“Are you _sure_?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Jimmu clapped his hands once, catching both their attention, “I have business to attend to. Hamada, I hope you will feel at home here during your stay.”

 

“How long do you estimate it will be?” Hiro querulously asked.

 

“It shouldn’t take longer than a month. Two weeks at minimum.”

 

“A MONTH?? Are you fucking kidding-” Jimmu saluted Hiro as he left the room “-me??”

 

Glaring at the empty doorway, Hiro crossed his arms and snarled, “Fuck that guy.”

 

The chain clanked, reminding Hiro that he was still wearing that stupid handcuff. He held up his hand and shook it at Hoshino, “Hey you, can you get me out of this stupid thing?”

 

Hoshino cocked her head, “Why? If you are not intending to go to the toilet, I see no reason to unlock you. It makes my job easier if you’re in one place.”

 

“…Oh my god. You’re also an _asshole_. Just like your boss.” Hiro groaned as he flopped back into the bed. He couldn’t believe the new turn his life had taken.

 

* * *

 

When the hour approached noon, Hoshino left Hiro still chained to the bed to retrieve his lunch. Hiro flipped her both fingers as she left, deeply insulted and annoyed that he was being treated like a prisoner. Pfft, feel at home here in Hojo’s home? Yeah right. He had been in actual jails that treated him nicer than this!

 

But well, at least there were books in the room so he wouldn’t be completely bored out of his mind. Climbing out of the bed, he walked as far as his chain would let him and walked the circumference, judging the distance he had. He was obviously too far from the windows and door. Unless he had the strength to move the bed itself or break the chain, he wasn’t leaving this room.

 

Returning his attention back to the bookshelf beside his bed, Hiro idly picked out one and flipped through it. It was a genealogical tree that went all the way back to 12th century. Woah, okay he couldn’t read these old kanji. But the logo or rather, _mon_ caught his eye. He had seen it somewhere before… _oh_.

  

“Hahaha! I didn’t think I would be seeing the Triforce here of all places!” Chuckling to himself, Hiro idly flipped through the yellowed pages, trying to see if he could read any of the ancient kanji. But he soon gave up after thirty or so pages of endless illegible kanji he couldn’t read. The only things he could understand were the years that these people had lived. Putting the genealogical tree back on the shelf, Hiro picked out a newer book, correctly assuming that he would be able to read the newer books more easily.

 

“Your lunch is ready, sir.” Hoshino stepped in with a bowl of hot ramen. Hiro’s mouth watered as he smelled the savoury broth – goodness, the last time he had eaten had been more than a day ago! As soon as Hoshino passed him the bowl, Hiro scoffed it within minutes.

 

“Delicious! I really ought to thank the chef. And by the way, are you gonna unlock this chain? I need to use the toilet.” Hiro waved his cuffed hand at Hoshino. She gave him a suspicious look, “Are you sure?”

 

“What. Do you have some weird fetish or something?” Hiro covered his mouth as he continued, “Why I’m appalled! I knew Japan was weird, but I didn’t think that I would actually meet someone who’s into _omo-_.”

 

“Shut up. You may go.” Hoshino glared at him as she unlocked the handcuff. Hiro grinned and flexed his wrist. She muttered under her breath, “ _Urusaiyo_.”

 

“Are you going to follow me to the loo too?” Hiro hopped off the bed and walked out of the room with Hoshino at his heels. She nodded, “Yes. These are my orders.”

 

“Okay. You stay out of the toilet while I do my business. I can’t do it if someone’s watching – it’s downright weird and rude.”

 

As Hiro kept Hoshino distracted with small talk, he was observing his new surroundings, trying to take in as much detail of the mysterious Hojo Clan’s home. Hiro glimpsed out of the windows he passed, a large Japanese building in the distance. Beside it, he could just barely make out the distinctive tiled Japanese roofs of smaller buildings. Wait. Hold on a minute. Wasn’t that the freaking _Tokyo Imperial Palace_?!

 

He vaguely recalled that the Hojo Clan were one of the Shinnōke Houses, but even so...How the fuck were the Hojo Clan living so close to the royal family??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Glossary**  
>  **mon** \- family emblem, not to be mistaken for daimon  
>  **Urusaiyo** \- annoying, noisy

**Author's Note:**

> Winter's Pale has a side-blog [here](http://seasonsofyakuza.tumblr.com/) where I keep my references and commentary on it.
> 
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> *****NOTE*****
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> **DO NOT EVER ASK FOR UPDATES WITHOUT GIVING ANY FEEDBACK BECAUSE THIS IS VERY RUDE AND INCONSIDERATE TO AUTHORS WHO ARE USING THEIR PRECIOUS FREE TIME TO WRITE THEIR STORIES. THEY WANT TO HEAR WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THEIR WORK AND THAT THEIR EFFORT IS APPRECIATED. THEY'RE NOT FUCKING WRITING MACHINES THAT CHURN OUT STORIES AT YOUR COMMAND.**


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